#why did i spend my entire evening on this when i could have been chatting with friends on discord

[damnable-bell]

Tagged by the kind @flownwrong to share 5 songs I'm into right now! I'm going to cheat a lot, since picking five is just too hard.

SHINee - Feel Good & Wonder Girls - I Feel You — I was toying with the idea of doing a writeup of every SHINee album to celebrate their anniversary this week, but having accepted that I have neither the time or energy to actually do that, I've instead been walking around listening to 1 of 1 and fantasizing about what I would write if only I did have the time. I want to live inside the verses and pre-chorus of "Feel Good" forever: the swell of the filtered synths and twinkling keyboard, followed by that moment where the drum machine and handclaps kick in and all of their voices come together is like the aural equivalent of watching a sun rise. I want to cry when I listen to it, it's so beautiful. There's a hazy quality to the synth breakdown here, with its scratchy wub-dubs and half-muffled shouts, that almost puts me in mind of the The Avalanches' electronic bricolage—fittingly, since this is also a track that rearranges old sounds into something new. Wonder Girls' Reboot does the same thing of course, though Reboot's reworking of '80s synth-pop feels more straightforward to me than the interpolation of UK garage into "Feel Good," if also no less brilliant and satisfying.

BELLRING少女ハート - asthma

Ginuwine - So Anxious & Nelly Furtado - Maneater, & Nelly Furtado - Promiscuous — I've been having fun revisiting old Timbaland songs this week. It's strange to think that Timbaland was once such an ubiquitous chart presence that a song as idiosyncratic as "Promiscuous" once formed 10-year-old me's default idea of what good pop music sounded like. Now I listen to it and I'm like wait, this is not only good but also weird, and it's not even close to his weirdest (or even Danja's weirdest).

(G)-IDLE - Queencard — Only checked this out after hating every previous (G)-IDLE song because I thought it would make me laugh. Played myself big time. It did make me laugh, but it also made me want to twerk on the runway.

Nakamura Minami - ROYAL MILK TEA — the "Heads Will Roll" sample here makes me go CRAZY!!!!

Honorable mentions: mitsume - 忘れたい, Yung Lean ft. FKA Twigs - Bliss (I liked Yung Lean back when Yung Lean was a punching bag for music critics, where is my medal, etc.), Homecomings - Us

[moonlinos]

Call my bluff, call you ‘babe’

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, fluff

♡ CW: Implied smut, alcohol consumption. Twenty solid seconds of angst, but it doesn’t even really count. It’s just tooth-rotting fluff.

♡ Word count: 5.5k

♡ Synopsis: Minho has been your best friend since you two could barely form coherent sentences. He was there when your last baby tooth fell, he was there when you failed your high school exams, and he was there as you walked down the aisle.

♡ A/N: This was going to be just word-vomit fluff to make me cry, but I couldn’t control myself and before I knew it there were… so many words.

You were four years old when you met Minho. It was the first day of kindergarten, and you were assigned seats together. The entire day was spent with you chatting to every kid you could reach from your seat while Minho quietly sat painting and doodling by your side. You vaguely remember thinking he was odd and whining to your mom about how your seatmate was boring, and that was why he was the only kid in class you didn’t talk to. She smiled and told you maybe you should make an effort to talk to him. That same day, you racked your little brain for a reason why your seatmate might be so quiet and promptly decided that he was too shy to start a conversation himself. You then asked your mom if the fact that you didn’t talk to him might have made him sad, to which she hesitated, and that was enough to have your bottom lip wobbling.

You remember tears streaming down your cheeks as you frantically sobbed, inconsolable at the fact that your seatmate was sad and that it was partially because of you.

The next day, you asked if Minho would like to use your special glitter pens — you even told him you wouldn’t mind if he used your favorite colors. That was really all that was needed to plant the bud of friendship between you two.

Ever since that day, you two slowly became inseparable.

You attended the same elementary school after begging your parents, writing a very concise list of reasons why you two could not possibly be separated. Reasons such as the fact that Minho still didn’t know how to tie his shoelaces, so it would be dangerous for him to be alone in a new school. Or the fact that you were always losing your gloves, and Minho always carried an extra pair in his backpack just for you, so you would surely catch a cold if you didn’t have him beside you during winter.

All extremely valid reasons.

Minho began walking you home from school when you were both nine years old. He was often left alone due to his parents’ work schedules, which made him become the most street-smart kid in your class. You had to beg your mom for a week, but she ultimately caved in.

Your favorite thing to do on your way home was to stop randomly and doodle on the sidewalk with chalk, with Minho joining you in no time. You even had your favorite little sketching spot — right in front of a nice old lady’s flower shop, where you two would spend far too much time decorating her entrance pavement with flowers, rainbows, and smiley faces. She would later introduce herself to you, Ms. Kim, and would always thank you both with a flower of your choice. You always picked tulips, and Minho always picked daisies.

On one hazy winter day, you and Minho were eager to adorn the flower shop’s entrance with a new set of doodles since the ones you had done just yesterday got covered in snow. As you two did your best to dig through the piled-up snow with your gloved hands, you suddenly felt something hard slide down your throat. Your hands stilled, and you turned to look at Minho with wide eyes.

“What happened?” He asked. “Did you lose your glove in the snow this time?”

You shook your head frantically, careful not to swallow. “Teeth,” you simply said.

Minho looked at you like you were crazy, squinting his eyes as he studied your face. “What?”

You felt tears well up, and he immediately abandoned his mission of shuffling through the snow before pulling you into a big hug.

“Why are you crying? Don’t cry. I hate when you cry, I feel weird when you cry,” He said, but no tears left his worried eyes. Minho never cried, that was something you had learned a while back. 

You, however, cried until Ms. Kim noticed you two from the window, cooing as she approached you two with a gentle smile. You tried your best to explain your predicament. Minho sat with you behind the wooden counter, holding your hand in his, the smell of flowers making everything feel less catastrophic than it did ten minutes earlier.

Ms. Kim explained that you had no reason to cry, as it was normal for kids to swallow their baby teeth. And you remember harshly shaking your head and explaining with a trembling voice that you hadn’t cried because of that. You had cried because that was your last baby tooth, which meant you were officially a grown-up. You didn’t want to be a grown-up. Minho wasn’t a grown-up yet, with his last baby tooth still holding on proudly in his gums. You didn’t want to be a grown-up all alone; it would be terrible and sad.

That afternoon, you two went home together in silence, your respective flowers clutched in your hands. Minho was never good with words. Sadness engulfed him because he couldn’t do enough to make his best friend smile again. What was the point of a best friend if they didn’t make you laugh when you were crying?

Minho walked into school the next day with a proud smile on his face before placing his last baby tooth on your desk. You eyed it curiously, brows furrowed.

“There, I took it off last night,” He simply said. “Now we’re gonna be grown-ups together.”

At eleven years old, your daily after-school video game appointments began.

You had just cut your hair short; a bob you thought looked cute on your favorite singer turned out to be cataclysmically unflattering on you. And, at eleven years old, it was earth-shattering and definitely the end of your life (despite what your mother told you).

You spent every second out in public with your hair hidden by a beanie, hoping it would distract people from your disastrous haircut.

Except it had the opposite effect.

One particular day at school, a boy came up to you simply to inform you that your head looked like a mushroom before running away, laughing with his friends. They were foolish words spoken by a foolish boy, but you were eleven. Once again, earth-shattering and the end of your life.

You avoided everyone the entire day — including Minho, whom you always talked to no matter your mood. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him for much longer, seeing as he walked you home every day, so you simply prayed he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes or that he at least hadn’t heard any of the other kids making unfunny jokes about your haircut.

After school, Minho sighed in feigned annoyance when you told him you had lost your gloves again before retrieving a pair from his backpack. Like a habit, you asked if he wanted to hang out at your house, although the answer was always unchanging.

“My mom’s baking a cake,” you told him. “We can play video games and then eat it together.”

Minho hummed in agreement, adjusting his backpack before grabbing your hand as you two began your daily walk to your house. It was something you always did, never walking anywhere without your hands clasped together. These past few months, however, this once ordinary gesture had begun making your heart beat faster. You didn’t understand why, and you would rather not think about it because every time you did, the words from your other friends would echo inside your head. Their stories about how they felt their hearts racing when their crush had hugged them or even looked their way, making you question if maybe…

But it couldn’t be. Minho was your best friend. How could he be your crush?

It was another one of those afternoons, your mom busily making you two sandwiches as you and Minho played New Super Mario Bros on your Wii under the blanket fort you always meticulously built. Minho had been acting weird all day — even weirder than you, who had to endure all the asinine jokes and hurtful words from your peers. As you completed the last level for the umpteenth time, saving Princess Peach, Minho all but threw his controller to the side. You turned to shoot him a questioning look, which went ignored as he rummaged through his backpack.

He retrieved a crumpled-up piece of paper, which he promptly gave to you.

You cocked your head, awaiting some sort of explanation, but Minho simply picked up his controller once more and hit play on the game.

Unfolding the paper, words greeted you in Minho’s messy handwriting.

YOUR HAIR LOOKS CUTE. STOP HIDING IT.

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could say anything to him, Minho reached out and snatched your beanie from your head. Your short hair and bangs cascaded onto your face, partially obscuring your view. But you could still make out his side profile, where a faint smile appeared on his lips.

After that, you two were silent for the rest of the day, eventually dozing off under the tent lulled by the sound of your mother’s hand mixer and Mario’s theme song. The sun eventually set outside the window, and you woke up to two plates of your mother’s cake waiting for you on the coffee table.

From that point on, your beanie was left forgotten inside your drawer.

You were fifteen when you realized that perhaps your feelings for Minho weren’t all that platonic after all.

It all started with a letter on Minho’s desk on a rainy Friday. October 25th, Minho’s birthday.

Minho’s quiet nature hadn’t changed one bit since you first sat beside him at four years old. He would rather die than start a conversation, rarely went out to the movies with your friend group and, most importantly, hated being the center of attention. That was why he told no one about his birthday since you two began high school this year. It was the subject of much debate among your little group of friends, with some bribing Minho with his favorite snacks or promising to do his assignments until college just for some sort of clue; a day, month, even the day of the week he was born.

But Minho never budged.

So, seeing a letter on his desk on the day of his birthday was odd, to say the least.

You arrived back to the classroom late after chatting to your friend from another class in the hallway, catching as Minho sat down with a puzzled look on his face and an open letter in his hands.

“What’s up?” You asked, sitting on the desk in front of him.

He looked up, thick glasses crooked from a dodgeball incident earlier that week. “Yumi found out it’s my birthday today,” He informed you, a bit too nonchalantly. “She organized a birthday party at her house tomorrow with our friends.”

You immediately took the letter, reading it and blanching at the words written in the girl’s pretty handwriting. She had found out Minho’s birthday by snooping around Facebook until she found his mother, who had a plethora of pictures of Minho on his previous birthdays. Not only that, the letter ended with a paragraph where she confessed her feelings to him — with all the clichés and dramatics only an adolescent crush could provide.

You still remember your first thoughts upon learning that information: Oh, Yumi. Of course a girl like her would do something like this.

You cringe at your words now, but at fifteen, you deemed no girl worthy of your best friend. Especially ‘girls like Yumi,’ who in your eyes all but threw herself at him. At the time, you thought you were looking out for the boy who was practically your brother. Now, you understand you were simply an insecure fifteen-year-old who allowed ugly, misogynistic thoughts to brew inside your mind out of fear of losing Minho. For your immature brain, every girl interested in Minho was an enemy because they could easily take him away from you.

And Minho had never reciprocated any girl’s feelings, always politely turning down the few confessions he had gotten during middle school. You were ready to berate Yumi, your brows immediately furrowing as your face contorted, but Minho beat you to it, speaking before you could utter a word.

“I know I should be mad, but isn’t it a little… cute?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, the sound escaping your lips like a burst of disbelief. You also couldn’t help how your hands began to tremble as your heart shot up to your throat.

“Cute?” You asked with the strongest voice you could muster. “You think her invading your privacy is cute?”

And Minho simply shrugged, tapping his fingers on his desk. “A little bit. I know you don’t really like her, but she’s part of our friend group,” He said, taking the letter from your shaky hands. “Plus, she’s always been nice to me, and she is cute.”

That was all you could physically bear to hear, excusing yourself from the conversation with the lie that your friend had called you from the classroom window before sprinting out into the hallway. As you continued walking, your palms grew clammy and your heart weighed heavily in your chest.

You felt tears well up in your eyes once you reached the stairs. Sitting on the steps, you cried into the cardigan of your ugly school uniform. You didn’t care that you would be scolded for skipping class; all you cared about was that your best friend was going to be taken from you.

After school, as you and Minho were about to exit the school gates — your hands tightly clasped together as they always were — Yumi appeared carrying a cake, the rest of your friends behind her as they all sang happy birthday. 

Minho blew out the candles and made a wish. Everyone cheered as his best friend, Chan, shoved his face into the cake. Minho yelled at him, grumbling with glasses covered in white frosting, but ultimately laughing along. Yumi was quick to clean his face with a napkin, earning her a smile from Minho before he released your hand to gently squeeze her rosy cheeks.

You remained quiet, forcing out a smile and looking up at the sky every now and then so your tears wouldn’t fall.

All because Minho had let go of your hand.

Minho’s fifteenth birthday — that was the day you learned you could fool everyone else, but never yourself.

Your seventeenth summer was a drag.

Minho had just been broken up with a couple of months before, Yumi crying as she explained her parents wanted her to focus on her studies, and having a boyfriend was simply a distraction she couldn’t afford if she wanted to be a doctor someday. An unwilling participant in the entire situation, you sat awkwardly at the bus stop as she spoke.

You were ready to witness Minho cry for the first time in your life, maybe yell about how unfair her parents were being, but he simply pressed a kiss to her forehead just as your bus arrived.

Not much had changed when he began dating Yumi, with you learning that suppressing how you truly felt was worryingly easy. You still hung out with them, battling through their cuddles and kisses like a soldier on the front lines of a war. Never unscathed, but always strong. Nobody needed to know about how you cried into your mother’s arms almost every night before falling asleep.

The only change had been you and Minho’s daily gaming appointments. You two had since outgrown your video game phase, both now interested in diverging things that made it impossible for you to enjoy them together. You discovered your love for flowers went beyond doodling on the sidewalk in front of a flower shop, but Minho complained that growing flowers was too time-consuming, and he loved dancing, which you were far too uncoordinated and lazy to even try doing.

And so, you two settled for simply hanging out together at your house. Your room had easy access to the roof, which you two took full advantage of, setting up a permanent blanket fort where you would snuggle up with pillows and talk for hours after school.

That summer was no different, with Minho stretched out across the old mattress, watching the light pink sky slowly fade away as night set in while you two busied yourselves talking.

That was the day you finally gathered the courage to ask Minho about his breakup, desperate to understand why he had appeared so unfazed. After the one-year milestone of their relationship in February, you had begun to make peace with the fact that she would probably be around for a while.

Minho shrugged at your question, hands resting on his stomach while he gnawed on his bottom lip. He explained he was sure that he liked her, but it turned out he valued her as a friend much more than as a girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the answer. You knew Minho better than you knew yourself at times, which was why you knew he was lying through his teeth.

“Why did you stay so long with her, then?” You questioned, the resentful lilt in your voice a bit too obvious. You cleared your throat before adding, “I mean, you surely didn’t act as just friends.”

“I guess I felt lonely before,” He explained. “I was selfish for staying with her, but I enjoyed having someone. Was especially nice after…” Minho trailed off, dismissively shaking his head, and you remember being close to throwing him off that roof as he kept being so damn enigmatic.

“After what?” You prodded, “Minho, I’m your best friend. What’s the point of us talking if you’re not gonna tell me the truth?”

He turned his head to look up at you, the darkening sky making his eyes gleam as if they held an entire galaxy of stars. You felt that familiar nervousness return.

“It was nice to not be so alone after so many years of pining after someone.”

You cocked your head to the side, and Minho had the gall to chuckle at your puzzled expression. You shook your head, mumbling to yourself that your conversation was pointless if he wouldn’t tell you the whole truth.

Lying next to him on the mattress with a sigh, you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze on you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.

You remember the moon was already high in the sky by the time one of you finally moved — Minho, who slowly inched his hand closer to yours before clasping it tightly in his. Despite your racing heart, you thought nothing of it. He was now single, so it wouldn’t be ludicrous to assume a habit you two had cultivated for many years would naturally return.

However, after some beats from your erratically racing heart, Minho’s fingers intertwined with yours. You had never done that before, always holding hands in a way that all but screamed platonic.

That night, with his thumb caressing your skin and his hand squeezing yours, Minho finally spoke the truth after so long.

“It’s you,” He said, tone nonchalant but voice audibly shaky. “Think I’ve been pining after you since I was nine and ripped my tooth out ‘cause I thought that’d make you stop being sad.”

You remember gasping quietly and his hand tightening around yours as the clock ticked and your silence remained. You remember finally mustering up the courage to turn to look at him and being met by an expression you had rarely seen on Minho’s face in the thirteen years you had known him — he was scared, wide eyes dancing around your face as if he looked for an answer in your features, his chapped lips parted slightly as if he was ready to backtrack the moment he saw any hint of doubt in your eyes.

You remember smiling at him and how his expression shifted into pure confusion. All it took was for him to finally have the nerve to hold your hand in the way he’d always wanted to, and for you to use his courage as a catalyst for your own. You remember how you closed the distance between you two and pressed your lips to his. You remember it feeling weird because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

But you also remember it feeling right because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

Your transition from being best friends to being in a relationship was easier than you had ever thought it would be — it was also slower than you could have ever imagined.

Minho never asked you out or confessed his feelings beyond what was said on the roof, and neither did you. It was a shared knowledge between you, a silent agreement that didn’t need words — at least for now. The little gestures and subtle changes left no doubt in your minds that you two were, in fact, no longer just friends — like how you began to always intertwine your fingers while holding hands, or how Minho would pull you onto his lap when you hung out with your friends, or how you would rest your head on his shoulder as he played with your hair during lunch break.

Your friends certainly had questions, the confusion written all over their faces easy to read like a book, but you both knew they also understood your relationship without you needing to make a big deal out of it.

You picked him up from dance class every weekend, sometimes arriving earlier just to catch a glimpse of him through the glass door, as Minho insisted he was too embarrassed to dance in front of you.

One day, thoroughly unprompted, he reached into his backpack as you two exited his dance academy and pulled out a yellow tulip. You had furrowed your brows at the sudden gesture, and Minho nonchalantly told you that planting your favorite flower was surprisingly easy. Since becoming teenagers, you had stopped going to Ms. Kim’s flower shop, and you had long forgotten about how you two used to have your own respective flowers back in the day.

It seemed Minho hadn’t forgotten.

That was one thing you had come to know about him only after you began dating. Although he seemed cold and distant on the outside — rarely communicating his feelings through words — Minho secretly kept a mental note of every little detail about the people he cared about, and he unfailingly found a way to communicate his feelings through actions. Such as promptly handing you a brand-new flower he had picked before you even had the chance to mourn your tulip as it began to wilt.

You, on the other hand, had always been the type of person to communicate through words; spoken, written, or read, which is how you began saving your best daisies from the small garden you created in your backyard and practicing your flower arrangement skills exclusively by making pretty bouquets you could gift to Minho (always with little notes hidden among the flowers).

Your once explicitly platonic roof dates also left no room for doubt, as making out under your usual tent became a hard-to-break habit. In fact, that was how your family found out about your relationship. You were eighteen, with graduation just around the corner, when your mother caught Minho kissing you as tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of having to be apart from him during college (although you both knew that would never be the case, as you always moved mountains simply to stay together).

Everything was slow-paced, and neither of you had any desire to rush anything. Once, Minho told you he had waited eight years to finally kiss you, and somehow, that anticipation was what had made it all the more special.

And so, your first proper date only happened six months after your first kiss, and your first fight only happened a year and a half into your relationship. Not to mention your first I love you, which had been a slip-up that happened only in your first year of college after a drunken night with Chan and Minho. Your head on his lap, your tulip nestled among his daisies in a pretty vase on the coffee table as Chan hummed along to some song that came from his phone. You felt as if your entire being was filled with pure gratitude at that moment, and the liquid courage that flowed through your veins only helped you mutter out how much you loved Minho.

He looked down at you, hands cupping your cheeks with a silly smile adorning his face, and simply answered, “Well, I love you more.”

Your carefree attitude toward your relationship was almost a contrast to the one you had with your friendship. You and Minho had met so young that you could never truly pinpoint when you had become such close friends. You always wondered if that was what led you two to be so easygoing with what most people rush into. Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

You remember one of Minho’s new friends, Changbin, asking something about your sex life at some party during freshman year, and you two nonchalantly answering that you didn’t really have one. Your friends’ shock was understandable, but you and Minho only laughed.

Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

It was Minho’s 21st birthday, when your flowers were no longer in bloom, but your love remained blossoming like it was mid-spring. He had, as always, vetoed any and every plan of a celebration suggested by your friends. He opted to stay in with you, cuddling under a blanket fort like you had been doing for so many years. Chan graciously offered to sleep at a friend’s dorm, leaving your small shared apartment just for you and Minho.

He hadn’t planned for anything to happen, and neither had you. You were simply lying together, watching the flickering of the candles you had set up around the coffee table, recounting the innumerable memories you shared when you suddenly felt the earnest, all-consuming need to have Minho as close as possible.

It was clumsy, both of you inexperienced and nervous. Your teeth crashed together and your hands gripped each other tightly, the realization of the intensity of your yearning becoming undeniable. At some point, the entire tent collapsed on top of you, and laughter filled the room for a brief moment before being replaced by your sighs and whispered moans.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was you and Minho.

Graduation day was a blur in your mind.

It had all started with Minho and Chan drunk at eleven a.m., offering you the awful-tasting omelet they had cooked in your cramped kitchen. They then went on to zone out for most of the ceremony after stumbling out of your apartment.

You approached Minho after he was done taking pictures and getting scolded by his family for being drunk on his graduation day, his mother giving you an apologetic look as you whisked him away.

“You’re stressed,” you pointed out.

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” you replied with a sigh, resting against a large tree far enough away from the hustle and bustle of recently graduated students and crying families. “So is Chan. Don’t think I’ve seen him this drunk since Jisung’s birthday party last year.”

Minho chuckled, shifting on his feet and toying with the fabric of his gown. You furrowed your brows; he only ever got fidgety when hiding something. You learned that for the first time when you were thirteen and he had to wait until your birthday to tell you he’d gotten you two tickets to see your favorite band, and again when he had to keep Chan’s then-girlfriend’s plans of asking him to move in together a secret.

“You’re not nervous ‘cause of graduation, are you?”

You remember the way he stilled almost immediately.

“We always tell each other the truth, right?” He asked.

You remember the way your whole world spun as he pulled out a small box from his pocket and how everything seemed to fade into a white mist that surrounded Minho like a spotlight as he proposed to you.

Your wedding was small — both because that was how you had wanted it to be and because of your lack of money for a proper party.

After graduating, Minho became a dance teacher at the academy he attended as a teen, teaching little kids who he said always reminded him of you two. You used the money your parents had saved for you to travel after college to buy the old flower shop that held so many memories from your childhood. Neither of you used your degrees, and neither of you made a lot of money, but you were overflowing with an infatuation for life and a love for each other so great that it made up for any silly inconvenience that dared to come up.

The ceremony was held at a local church — although neither of you was particularly religious, that was the cheapest place available. You opted to walk down the aisle together; hands clasped the way you used to do for many years while walking home from school. Minho held onto a daisy bouquet you made, while you held the single tulip he had picked out for you that day.

“I’m not good with words,” was how Minho began his vows, the glow of the fairy lights and candles adorning the church rendering his attempt at hiding his tears futile. That was the first time you had ever seen him cry in the twenty-one years you’d known him. “But I think that never mattered with you. You know me better than I know myself. Most times, I don’t even have to say a word, and you’ll still understand me. It’s been this way since we were four, and you understood why I was so quiet, and you still chose to be my friend. Thank you for understanding me, and thank you for allowing me to love you. Loving you is what I do best and look how lucky I am; I’ve been able to do it for my whole life.” He then shot you a grin, the back of his hand wiping away your tears. He ended his speech with a line that was so very Minho, thought up with sincerity but spoken primarily to make you smile. “You’ve always felt like home, and I can’t wait to feel that way until we’re both food for the worms to eat.”

You had never cried so much as you did on the day of your wedding — which was remarkable, seeing as you’d been a crier your whole life. You remember the irony of it all; Minho, who had never been good with words, telling you about his love with words that came from his heart and spilled from his lips without any rehearsal, while you were rendered speechless and too emotional to even attempt to form a coherent sentence.

Your wedding vow was a simple, choked-up, “Thank you for being my best friend, Minho.”

Minho carried you home from the church, with your cheeks flushing pink and his smile beaming as your friends made rice cascade around the two of you like snow. It turned out the boy who hated attention didn’t mind the spotlight so long as it meant showing off his love for you.

Your honeymoon was spent in your small house above your flower shop — which you named Daisy’s Tulips — where you cuddled under a blanket fort the entire day, only leaving the comfort of the pillows and fluffy covers well after midnight to adorn the sidewalk in front of your house in a brand new chalk drawing.

“Can you imagine if we never said anything?” Minho suddenly wondered aloud, his chuckle echoing through the quiet street. “We were both pretty good at hiding our feelings for so long.”

And you simply shook your head, painting a daisy with white chalk on the sidewalk. “Minho, I know you. You wouldn’t have let me keep pretending after finding out I liked you too.”

“Who says I would have found out?”

“You said it yourself,” you explained, “I know you better than you know yourself, and that’s reciprocal. You would’ve found out ‘cause I can never hide anything from you.”

And Minho smiled, taking your hand in his just as you were done with your drawing. Your gaze shifted toward him, and you admired the man he had become. From the shy little boy who sat beside you to the quiet teenager with thick glasses to the man he had grown into; you loved every version of Minho you had the privilege to meet throughout your life, and you were certain you would love every new version of him you came to know in the future as well.

“Of course you can’t,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. He then added, “Thank you for being my best friend.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

As a follow up to you post about mentors, just to make things fair, what are examples of Tikki being a bad mentor to Marinette?

Post in question for context.

Tikki often acts as the voice of the author. She's there to explain why Marinette is in the wrong. Since Miraculous has some wacky morals, that means we get a mix of good advice and wacky nonsense advice.

Two examples of bad advice that come to mind are Gamer and Strikeback. Gamer is the episode where Marinette stumbles upon an Ultimate Mecha Strike tournament, realizes that Adrien is taking part, and decides to compete so they can be on a team together. Marinette wins a spot through her own hard won skills and then this happens:

Tikki: All you wanted to do is spend time with Adrien, there are other ways to do that! Marinette: What are you getting at? Tikki: You know how much Max wanted to be in that tournament. Kim said he'd been training for it all year. Marinette: You're right. All I could think about was Adrien. 

This is how tournaments work, right? They're not tests of skill, but tests of who put in the most work or who wants to compete the most! That's why we had that scene with Marinette writing out her training schedule and motivations for evaluation, but she lied and that was wrong and...

Okay, I was the one lying here. There was no written evaluation because that's not how tournaments work. All anyone cares about is your skills. They don't care if you're doing this for personal glory or to get closer to a boy or whatever Adrien's motivation was because - notably - his motivation didn't matter in this episode about needing pure motives to be allowed to do things.

What if he didn't care about the competition and only did it to get closer to his classmates? That's not even a random guess. It's a valid read because Adrien ultimately gives his spot to Max while claiming that Max is the better player even though Adrien very clearly beat Max at the start of the episode. Ignoring that weird nonsense dialogue, why was it fine for Adrien to compete when he didn't care but wrong for Marinette to do the same? And Max wanting to compete to show off his skills is also a totally selfish motivation, so why does it matter that he wanted it more? Everything about this episode was nonsense and uncomfortably sexist. If Max wants to compete, then he needs to get better at the game. That's how competitions work.

Strikeback is the second part of the season four final and it starts with Marinette mourning the fact that "Adrien" has left Paris, leading to this:

Marinette: (crestfallen) It's all over, Tikki. Tikki: He'll be back, Marinette. He's just going on a voyage!

Which would be lovely advice if Adrien was a normal boy, but he's Chat Noir and Tikki knows that. She should be freaking out and trying to find a way to get him back to Paris, but then Tikki would have to support Marinette's actions and we can't have that, so instead Tikki gives this nonsense advice because she has to be against whatever "wrong" thing Marinette is doing today.

I could come up with a few more examples, but I think those two paint a pretty good picture of issue one re Tikki. However, when it comes to Tikki, my main issue with her is less a wealth of bad advice - unlike Plagg*, I think she's right more often than not - and more a lack of support. It feels like she's just here to judge Marinette and point out when she's doing something wrong, but a good mentor should be so much more than that.

Kuro Neko is a great example of this. When Chat Noir quits, Tikki just sits back and does nothing while her young charge is freaking out. She doesn't even try to defend Marinette when Plagg is going off about Chat Noir's "ill treatment". For all Plagg's faults in that episode, at least he's doing something about the situation. Meanwhile Tikki literally has two lines in the entire episode! A similar thing happens in Kwami's Choice where Plagg is the one driving them to act while Tikki just wrings her hands in despair.

Tikki: (sighs heavily) What can we do? Plagg: We must free them of that impossible choice. We must… free them of us.

These are not the actions of a mentor. Mentors aren't supposed to just offer judgement about things that their mentee has already done or is considering doing. They're supposed to be a source of support and guidance in hard times, but we never really see Tikki stepping in to give Marinette that kind of advice. If memory serves, she never offers solutions or acts as a sounding board. That role is mainly filled by Alya and I love Alya! It's good for Marinette to have support from a friend, but Alya is also a teenager while Tikki is an ancient being who has seen many Ladybugs go through the kind of struggles that Marinette is going through. I expect her to use that knowledge to help her charge, but she never does. This exchange from Passion perfectly highlights this problem:

Tikki: Don't worry, Plagg... my holder has decided to run away from her real feelings to pursue an impossible love with Cat Noir instead. Plagg: Uh, just to be sure, sugarcube, you do know that Cat Noir and my holder are one and the same person, right? Tikki: I do, but my holder doesn't. Plagg: If she declares her love to Cat Noir, something tells me she'll find out soon enough. Tikki: You have nothing to fear. When my holder is in love, she never gets anywhere. She'll just knit hats and make very complicated plans that will never come to fruition. Plagg: Hmm... ah, then everything's fine.

Tikki, I love you, but by the gods! With a mentor like you, Marinette doesn't need enemies to be miserable! Do you care about her at all??? What kind of mentor delights at their mentee's suffering? Not a good one, that's for sure.

*Quick note: I think that Plagg and Tikki are probably neck and neck for who has given the most bad advice, Plagg just feels like the bigger problem because we don't see him as much as we see Tikki. Since she's tied to the main character, Tikki gives advice in almost every episode and most episodes have decent morals.

Adrien's need for good advice can also feel more glaring because he's so isolated and passive. That makes Plagg's lack of good advice feel more harmful, but Marinette is just as isolated from real advice. Her mentor figures - Su Han, Fu, and Tikki - mostly give orders and judgement instead of support and guidance. It's just harder to spot that fact because Marinette is actively trying to do the right thing, meaning that she's more likely to make mistakes, and it's easy to see why she comes across as a lot less pathetic and a lot easier to judge.

[penelopeswifey]

ACCIDENTALLY YOURS !

WRITTEN PROLOUGE

—

" Thoughts on Balladeer? Well, he's okay.. but I think he's kind of overhyped, I mean all he has is his looks.. c'mon, lets be honest he wouldn't be famous if he wasn't good looking.. "

You said without any care, laughing at the chats reaction tons of debates starting up in chat, it was around 3am? a late night stream. You couldn't fall asleep so you decided to stream to your fans who were also up late at night, lazily playing the low quality game your viewers suggested only the sounds of keyboard smashing to be heard. You yawned, maybe it was the mood or the dim lights but you felt your eyelids getting heavier.

Yawning more, you apologized to your viewers saying that you were too tired to continue smiling at their goodnights and comforting words, you started lazily moving your cursor to click "End Stream," when, in your sleepy haze, you misclicked. A different tab opens up.. Your writing document, still open from earlier when you were editing the fic.

Except, this wasn’t just any fanfic.

It was THE fanfic. The fanfic you spend a total of 2 hours on every night to update to your small fanbase  .. and the pairing? None other than Scaramouche, the very idol you just ridiculed on stream as “ overhyped "

For a solid few minutes, you stared in horror, unsure if you were dreaming or hallucinating. Then reality hit, and so did the panic.

" W- Wait?! No- No!! !" You fumbled for the mouse, your fingers shaky, eyes wide as you tried to close the tab. But it was too late. The chat had already exploded and damage has already been done..

Chat messages flew by at lightning speed..

h3izoufan: what.. what was that 💀

arcticmonkeyslover662: : LNFAOO WAS THAT A FUCKING BALLADEER FANFIC???

luumine_718: didn't you just say you thought he was overrated?? 😭😭

The chat keeps going, you couldn't even focus on a message before it disappears into the hundreds of others appearing

Your brain scrambled for an explanation, but the damage was done. You swallowed, looking at the screen into your chat.

" Listen. I- I was just.. I was just curious!! ," you stammered, your voice a higher pitch than usual. " Be serious, it's seriously just research?! I mean, everyone has read a fanfic once in their life— it's just curiosity! You guys are misunderstanding everything! " You said, eyes wide, stammering and a very, *very*, red face.

The chat wasn't buying it at all, having the time of their lives seeing you distressed

ree_1029: bro?? what research needs to look into " scaramouches smoldering gaze " 💀💀🙏 dpwm

yunjinslover: what the fuck are you writing LMFAOO 😭😭 ykw girl that's real tho can't even judge

Your eyes finally glanced at the page still open, horrified to realize just how romantic the scene was. There was no way of talking your way out of this one.

Just why did you have to write about his gaze multiple times?! Are you that fucking desperate?!

With a sigh and a very awkward laugh, you clicked out the tab. " Guys. I was seriously just practicing my creative writing skills. " You felt your face heat up even more as the chat continued the teasing,.

You sat there, staring at the chaos you had  unleashed. The chat, a whirlwind of laughter, teasing, and judgment, was moving faster than you could process. Some were full-on laughing at your situation, others mocked and reminded you of your earlier comments, and a few seemed genuinely angry

You nervously fidgeted with your mouse, your face practically burning as you tried to figure out how to salvage what was left of your dignity.

"Listen… before you all go crazy, let’s not blow this out of proportion, okay? You guys are overreacting.. " you pleaded, feeling the words get stuck in your throat. " I've said it so many times, it's just creative writing!! "  Your attempt to brush it off as a casual hobby fell flat, as the chat continued to descend into a storm of laughter and teasing, this has got to be the worst day of your entire career- not even career, your life!

yndefender: creative writing practice about ' his voice that compared to an angel's symphony ' ?? okay.. 🤔

You nearly choked on air, knowing the EXACT scene they were quoting from. Why did I have to write that part?? It wasn't even necessary in the plot! You cursed yourself internally.

As the teasing continued to flood the chat, the initial shock began to wear off, and reality hit you like a ton of bricks. You felt the weight of your earlier comments pressing down on you. Sure, you were putting on a casual front, but the embarrassment was still there..

“Okay. ” you said, your voice wavering a bit as you tried to regain some composure. “I think it’s time for me to end the stream before I embarrass myself even more. You guys are too much tonight.. overreacting so much for what.. "

The chat erupted in a flurry of reactions, with some pleading for you to stay and others playfully mocking your desperate need to escape.

realbeyonce3: nooo 🥺 don't leave dawg I still wanna know more about your thoughts on scaramouches smoldering gaze LMFAOOO

You could feel your face heat up again. “ Your all too cruel.. " Your voice was barely above a whisper, the shame creeping back in full force. “ I'm ending the stream.. it's already late.. "

As you scrolled through the chat one last time, you saw messages filled with laughter and teasing, but also support. Despite that, the overwhelming embarrassment felt like a heavy weight on your shoulders.

With a shaky breath, you forced a smile. “ Thanks for tuning in tonight.. Remember, it's just creative writing practice. ” The chat erupted again with laughter at your words.

“ Goodnight, everyone. I'll see you soon! Remember, just creative writing practice! ” you added quickly, your attempt at humor falling flat as you quickly clicked the “End Stream” button.

The screen showed the ended stream notification, and you exhaled deeply, slumping back in your chair. The laughter faded, but the shame remained, a dull ache in your chest. You could already imagine the videos that would circulate, you buried your face in your hands, feeling so nervous.

“ What the hell was I thinking.. ” you muttered, your face still buried in your hands as you tried to shake off the embarrassment. Recalling everything that happened, it was so. so. cringeworthy.

“ creative writing practice? Shit..” you whispered to yourself, trying to convince yourself that it was just a silly mistake. But deep down, you knew it was going to eat you alive for a while.

Putting your phone on silent and setting it aside on the counter you landed on your bed, looking up at the ceiling recalling every moment from that stream. Your face turned bright red again, grabbing a pillow and screaming into it as loud as you could. Violently punching the pillow until you tired yourself out and just laid there.. hugging the now messed up pillow as you started to feel your eyelids getting heavier.

" I'll just .. clear things up tomorrow. "

You thought to yourself as you finally fell asleep, falling into a relaxed state. Unbeknownst to you.. your phone began buzzing with notifications.. Wow. That's one way to go viral.

ACCIDENTALLY YOURS !

SYNOPSIS: You, a well-known streamer, have always kept your two hobbies separate. By day, you entertain thousands with your snarky commentary, but by night, you secretly write. fanfiction about your favorite idol, Balladeer. It was a guilty pleasure—until a late-night stream led to a slip of the tongue and exposed your secret to the world!

In a single moment of poor judgment and a misclick, which by the way was totally not your fault!.. I think.. clips and memes about you spread like wildfire! It was embarrassing enough for everyone to know about your fanfiction, but it spiraled down even further when they discovered you were writing about the very idol you  constantly claimed was overrated.

Just as you wallowed in self-pity, a notification pings on your phone. A familiar username and a blue checkmark.

Oh.

accidentally yours master list // chap 1 ->

a/n: help!! I'm so embarrassed, I sincerely apologize if the writing seems horrible I'm still improving! Prologue is complete, really excited to start!

taglist:

@kaeuri @kazumiku @kyouzki @skyoverkill1 @eternallykira-143 @lalalaloveallmydays @simonisferal

[frickingnerd]

two can play that game

pairing: keigo takami / hawks x fem!reader

summary: during a pro hero gala, hawks plays hard to get, to gain your attention. turns out he doesn't like it when you turn the tables on him and spend your evening with someone else…

tags: jealous!hawks, hawks is a bit of an asshole in this, reader dances with endeavour, happy ending, hawks & reader dancing together, hawks apologizes

hawks had been ignoring you ever since you showed up at the party. the moment your eyes met, he turned away and quickly began talking to the nearest person, just so he wouldn't have to talk to you. and you had no idea why.

you thought about every possible explanation. had you upset him? was this just a misunderstanding? had he mistaken you for someone else? or was he really just angry at you because of something you had forgotten?

the first hour of the party, you spent the entire time just thinking about it. every time you tried to approach hawks, he turned away and quickly began to talk to someone else or even pulling one of the women onto the dancefloor with him.

it took you until two hours into the event to understand what was going on, when another pro hero pointed it out to you.

“oh, he's trying to get you to think about him! paying no attention to you to get you more interested, you know?”

suddenly it seemed so obvious to you.

his plan had worked flawlessly too, as you had done nothing but spend the last two hours sitting by yourself, wondering what possible reason hawks could have for ignoring you. but now you knew. and you weren't happy at all!

but, two could play that game.

if hawks wanted to ignore you and chat up other women to make you jealous and get your attention, then you could do the same! and you knew just which man to ask for a dance to get the attention of the number two hero…

“excuse me…”

you gently tapped the endeavor's shoulder, causing the older man to turn around and glance down at you.

“would you like to dance with me?”

the question seemed to be a bit of a surprise, yet enji quickly put away his glass and offered you his hand, which you happily took.

the two of you made your way onto the dancefloor and you could feel everyone's eyes on you. not just hawks was staring at you two, but so was everyone else. after all, you had the courage to ask the number one hero to dance. and he had actually said yes!

though the two of you barely even finished your dance. halfway through the song, keigo stormed onto the dancefloor, glaring at you two.

“excuse me, we're not done dancing. if you want to be my next partner, then you have to wait a bit longer”

you said calmly, struggling to keep that big grin off your lips. you could see it was bothering keigo and you were satisfied. finally, he got a taste of his own medicine. and he didn't seem to like it.

“enji, get your hands off her–! …please!”

keigo struggled to stay calm, speaking through gritted teeth and being even more formal than needed.

sadly, endeavor did as he was told, not interested in causing a scene. he just took a step back and smiled at you.

“perhaps we can continue our dance another time” he said, though mostly as a formality, before glancing towards keigo and leaving you two behind on the dance floor.

you were about to turn around and leave keigo standing by himself, when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer, his other hand quickly finding its way onto your waist.

“what do you think you're doing, hawks?”

you raised an eyebrow, attempting to pull your hand away, but his grip on it was too tight.

“it's keigo for you, sweetheart” he corrected you, slowly beginning to dance with you to the rhythm of the music. “and i'm getting the dance i deserve”

“ha!” you huffed amused. “last time i checked, you have been dancing with countless women tonight. i'm sure you don't need to dance with me as well”

“oh, have you been checking me out all night, sweetheart? i had no idea…” keigo hummed innocently, a satisfied smile on his lips. he had gotten to you and he knew it.

“and you? you've had your eyes on me too, right? that's why you always managed to turn away when i approached. and that's how you knew i was dancing with enji” you cocked up an eyebrow, staring into keigo's eyes. he tried to avoid eye contact, rolling his eyes, before pulling you closer.

“and? what if i did?” he just asked, a cocky smirk on his lips. “can't a man check out a beautiful woman?”

he was so full of himself. you pulled your hand out of his grasp, yet his other hand remained on your waist.

“if you think i'm beautiful, then be man enough to tell me that to my face. i don't appreciate you playing games with me. so, you can drop your little act and continue to dance with me or i'll leave and ask enji for another dance” you looked him deep in the eyes, this time without keigo turning away. “so, what will it be?”

for a moment, keigo remained quiet. he was likely waging the options in his head. but after a few more seconds, he sighed and pulled you close again.

“i'm sorry, i've been a bit of an asshole to you tonight…” he started, only for you to quickly interrupt him. “a bit?”

“okay okay, i've been a huge asshole! i should've known not to treat you like this. now, will you forgive me and continue to dance with me?”

keigo put on the best puppy eyes he could muster up. you knew you shouldn't reward him for this bad behavior. you knew you should tell him to prove that he means it and only then does he get another chance. but you were weak for him. and so, you sighed and gave in.

“i suppose i could let you have one more dance…”

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

BIG OL HECKIN EDIT:

I am a dum dum who forgot how to spell @sassenach-on-the-rocks amid my existential terror and dread of the deleted-draft incident mentioned below, and then did a Dum Dum no Double-Down by forgetting to update until now. This headcanon is their brainchild and they deserve all the credit for it.

You may now continue with your previously intended brainrot viewing.

I'm VERY INCREDIBLY MIFFED, MY GUYS.

I had this entire post finished and almost completely formatted and saved it as a draft to finish formatting it on my computer

And it DIDN'T SAVE. And I nearly SCREEEEEMED.

It was for an ask request and I also can't seem to tag the person that sent the ask.

I am A N G E R Y

But after several deep breaths and reminding myself that violence is not the answer, here we are.

At any rate. The ask request was for headcanons involving One Piece boyos taking reader to a Masquerade ball.

To the asker, should you still be around to see it, I really really loved this and thank you so, so much for it ❤️❤️ I really enjoyed finding masks to match their aesthetics.

Only deviation I made was Zoro; you meet him there rather than going with him. It just felt right that way for some reason.

And awaaaaaaaay we go~

The Masquerade

Sanji, Zoro, Shanks, Mihawk, Buggy x Reader

SFW Headcanons

This was really so fun and cute and I thank Asker so so much for this.

♫♬Little By Little — The Fratellis♬♫

You wear your mask, I'll wear mine, they don't come cheap but they fit just fine

You can be her and I can be him, and we can both sink while the rest all swim

Sanji

He heard about it when you made port, and there's no way he's not taking you.

He's been looking for an opportunity to take you on the perfect first date, and this is it.

Perfect opportunity for the two of you to get away from the crew for and have a little alone time.

A little dancing, a little wine, a little champagne—it's perfect.

Makes sure not to tell anyone else, if Luffy hears there's free food he'll insist on going and the whole thing will no doubt end in chaos.

He doesn't even tell you—all he tells you, after presenting you with a brand new dress and jewelry (which most likely cost him every last berry in his wallet), is that he would like to take you out for the evening.

And how could you turn him down?

"Come on, love. I promise it will be the best evening you've ever had."

The effort he's already put in, those puppy-dog eyes....

You spend the evening dancing, talking, enjoying the free food, every ounce of his attention on you the entire time as he ensures that you feel like a princess.

Making sure that everyone has their eyes on the pair of you on the dance floor, that they know you're there with him.

Somehow ending up chit-chatting with the catering staff toward the end of the night and being invited to their far less formal after-party.

Stumbling back to the Merry hours later together, half-drunk and giggling and positive that it's the best night you've ever had.

Zoro

"What the hell...?"

He got lost and wandered in.

No idea what's going on, why are all these people wearing masks and dancing?? What exactly is going on this is weird as—

Oh hey there's an open bar, cool.

You recognize him from his bounty poster fairly quickly. There are a lot of marines here, and he really isn’t causing any problems, but he's getting a lot of strange looks...so you decide to do the guy a favor and shove a mask in his hands.

He looks at you like you're speaking another language as you explain where he is and convince him to just put on the damned mask already.

"A ball? I thought this was some kind of weird cult or something."

You just stare at him in disbelief—he thought it was a cult and he's just standing around enjoying the free drinks. 

What.

You brush it off and tell him if he wants to fit in, then dancing is probably a good idea.

He's frowning at you again.

"Yeah, I don't really...do that."

You roll your eyes—there are still people eyeing him suspiciously, you have to do something, so when he finishes his next drink you just grab him by the wrist and drag him out to the dance floor.

Cue impromptu ballroom dancing lessons. He keeps stepping on your feet and mumbling apologies, but it's kind of cute how hard he's trying.

You really can't help but giggle at his explanation that he just got lost and wandered in here.

But you're glad he did—you doubt you would have had nearly as much fun otherwise.

Shanks

Heard about the whole shin-dig while in port.

"Hey that sounds like fun, we should crash it."

You try to be stern, but he pulls out the puppy dog eyes.

"Oh come on please?"

God dammit....

And maybe an hour later you're both making masks.

There's glitter and glue and feathers all over the captain's cabin and you're already dreading cleaning it up.

His has a giant gaudy pirate hat. Because of course it has a giant gaudy pirate hat. He's so proud of it, grinning like a little kid in an arts and crafts class when he holds it up to show you, that you can't even bring yourself to admonish him for it.

And of course the whole thing is invitation-only, and of course he manages to sweet-talk his way in anyway.

Just having such a good time, really doesn't care if anyone recognizes him.

Really doesn't care, just drinking and making small talk and joking with several lower-ranking Marines in attendance who are clearly very nervous.

Within an hour, while you're in the middle of dancing and deciding that maybe this wasn't *such* a bad idea, an announcement is made for everyone to leave immediately.

Judging by the sheer number of Marines outside there's no doubt as to why.

He just gives you a guilty grin before picking you up over his shoulder and bolting back to the ship.

Mihawk

Actually received an invitation, just rolled his eyes and tossed it in the trash.

You dig it out and pout about it until he rolls his eyes and gives in.

"Fine. No more than an hour."

At lease there will be free wine.

Unsurprisingly spends a great deal of time standing in a corner and sipping said wine while staring around haughtily at the other partygoers.

Would much rather be drinking wine back in his secluded castle and not having to deal with other humans.

Spends the vast majority of the evening standing in a corner and nursing a glass of wine while glaring around haughtily at the other guests, daring them to even think of attempting to make small-talk with him.

Doesn't move from his designated corner until he sees other guests daring to flirt with you, at which point he promptly saunters over to pull you to the dance floor and ensure everyone is well aware that you're there with him.

Lightens up a little after that (which may or may not have something to do with the several glasses of wine he's already consumed), but absolutely will not admit that it actually turned out to be a rather nice evening.

He will, however, hold this over your head and remind you that you owe him.

But you know the truth, considering he's a little more willing to attend such events with you after this.

Buggy

Oh what now? An excuse to be absolutely flamboyant and unhinged in public?

You're going. Period. There will no arguments.

He's already got a collection of masks and costumes anyway, this is going to be a blast.

You lose track of him shortly after you get there. You're pretty sure that the explosion that went off toward the back corner of the dance floor had something to do with him.

He finds you while you're sipping a glass of champagne in downright annoyance and proudly informs you that he's made bank going through pockets at the coat check while everyone was distracted by his little diversion.

"Ah, don't worry, babe, they won't notice. They're too busy schmoozing and kissing ass."

Standing around making small-talk with other guests in the most ridiculous put-on aristocratic accent he can possibly muster, introducing you variably as some foreign dignitary or princess from a far off land.

Literally can't take this idiot anywhere.

[half-oz-eddie]

I didn’t know I wanted you (Until I couldn’t have you)

Part 4/5 (master list)

“Buck?” Eddie called out to a very distracted Buck. “Something wrong? You’ve been looking at your phone all night.”

“I-I’m always on my phone.” Buck nervously laughed.

“Sometimes…” Eddie nodded. “But not this much. Did you find a substack or something?”

“Uh…yeah.” Buck lied. “Just doing some deep diving.”

Eddie snickered in response, shaking his head. “Of course you did.”

Actually, Buck was checking his phone waiting to hear from Tommy about his date.

As the night went on and it was nearly midnight, Buck assumed the date went really well and Tommy took this mystery person home, or vice versa.

The following morning, Buck didn’t bother to text Tommy and told himself he’s probably sleeping in or spending time with his date.

When Tommy finally texted back, Buck unlocked his phone within seconds, eager to read the text.

He…? Not that Tommy needed to come out to Buck, because Buck’s cool. Totally cool. He’s an ally. He has queer friends. It shouldn’t even be a big deal that Tommy’s revealing this information to him.

Oh God I hope that didn’t sound too forward.

Tommy took Buck to a taco bar and Buck asked about his date, trying not to sound like he was prying for information.

Tommy’s responses were brief and vague.

Guy’s name is Edgar. He’s 42. Works in accounting. Loves the outdoors and mountain biking.

He sounds boring. Buck thought. But he liked all the stuff Tommy liked. He was even a trained pilot and he knew some Muay Thai.

Maybe he’s more interesting than me. Buck negatively thought.

“S-so you guys are gonna go hiking?”

“Yeah, I was thinking of taking him up the trail we went to. I know it pretty well and it seems like a great spot to go.”

Buck felt like his heart exploded in his chest. He felt like his soul was going to leave his body. Even death would have been kinder than this. “O-oh yeah? That’s cool. He’ll love it.” Buck forced out with a fake smile.

Tommy nodded. “Hope so.”

“Yeah, it’ll be pretty romantic. Especially if you end your hike by the picnic area an hour before sunset, when the sun is low and it creates this nice warm light. They-they call it the golden hour because the sun, it—it’s golden with a warm, reddish—“ Buck laughed to himself. “Sorry I know it’s your date, I-I was just—“

Tommy shot buck a fond smile. “I think that might be a little too romantic for a second date. We’re still getting to know each other.”

“Oh—ah—yeah. Y-you’re right.” Buck nervously chuckled. “I guess so.”

Sure, it was just the very beginning of their dating stage, but it felt like the end of the world for Buck, and he just couldn’t figure out why.

But boy, did it hurt like hell.

A week later, Buck found himself complaining to Eddie and Maddie in a separate group chat he’d created for just the three of them.

Buck realized he was starting to sound a bit insane and deleted the entire message.

He didn't want to say that either. He didn't agree with Maddie. She wasn't wrong, she just didn't understand the sort of...friendship they had.

Buck glared at his barrages of texts, hoping he didn’t sound too eager or too annoying.

Buck put on one of his best shirts and threw on his apron and immediately started prepping for dinner. He was so excited to finally see Tommy again and cheer him up that he couldn’t stop smiling.

He rented Love, Actually to stream, curated a playlist of some of Tommy’s favorite songs, and even mixed up some boxed cake mix.

He didn’t have any frosting, so he hoped strawberry preserves would do.

He wanted this evening to be perfect for Tommy, so he could forget all about the cheating bastard that wasted his time and possibly broke his heart.

The thought of Tommy having a broken heart nearly shattered his own. He needed to fix it. He needed to let him know that he would always be there for Tommy, like Tommy was there for him.

Buck texted Tommy to let him know the door was unlocked for him.

Tommy welcomed himself into Buck’s apartment. Buck looked up from the counter, a wide ecstatic smile painted on his face.

“Smells amazing in here.”

“I hope so. I’m just throwing a few things together. It won’t be perfect but—“

“It’ll be perfect. It was more than I could’ve asked for. Thank you for all of this.”

Tommy’s eyes fell onto the cake on the counter. “You even baked a cake?”

“Uh yeah, but I don’t have any frosting. I hope strawberry preserves are—“

Buck glanced over at Tommy as he was helping himself to a slice of cake, slathering the strawberry preserves on top.

Tommy shoved a generous helping into his mouth, glancing up at Buck with wide eyes. “Sorry. Did you want me to wait until after dinner?”

Buck laughed, shaking his head. “It’s fine. Whatever you want.”

“It’s good cake.”

“It’s just from a box. I adjusted the recipe a little bit to make the cake more moist and flavorful—“

“It worked. This is delicious.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

They sat down and ate dinner, laughed and caught up on daily life outside of Gerrard and definitely outside of Edgar.

They watched Love, Actually and finished off the night with some beers.

“You’re right, Tommy. This is some really good beer.”

“Mhm. I told you.” Tommy paused to finish his beer. “Thank you again, Evan. Tonight was…really fun.” He smiled. “Really helped take my mind off—“

“You don’t have to think about him, Tommy. I’m here for you. You don’t have to feel alone.” Buck realized how strange his statement may have sounded. “You’ve also got all our friends at the 118 too.”

Tommy nodded with a small smirk. “I know.”

There was something odd about the sound of Tommy’s voice. Perhaps he was looking for something more. Something Buck just couldn’t give him.

But Buck, somehow, still wished he could give him everything.

[aebinspa]

let's kill the romeo

PAIRING: ricky x y/n reader

GENRES: angst, fluff at the end, rude ricky but with a motive, fashion world!au, enemies to lovers that never been enemies, reader doesn't know his feelings, ricky has always been faithful, wendy (rv) is reader's best friend, wendy only did damage but at least she was hot, misunderstandings distance ricky and reader until in the final part everything is resolved for the best, second hand embarrassment

WORD COUNT: 4.4k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: english is not my first language! this story was born in my mind in one way but ended up becoming something else. i'm not happy with it, i wanted to delete it. i wrote it in many days, between one commitment and another, and I made it even worse. i hope that by publishing it someone can still appreciate it! :(

A last-minute black V-neck dress, heels borrowed from your best friend, and a vintage clutch your grandmother left you wouldn’t be enough to save you from the embarrassment of being at a party full of billionaires. It was all your best friend's fault, a famous ambassador for a luxury superbrand who had invited her to bring a companion. And when she asked you to come with her, you couldn't help but say yes; she was your only friend.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" your best friend asks you innocently. “It’s all too much…” “I know, but the party won’t last very long. A chat over there with the CEO of Dolce & Gabbana, an hour at the buffet, and everything will pass” “I don’t know anyone…” “I just saw a colleague of mine over there! I'm going to her!” The idea of rushing straight to the buffet and spending the entire party there seemed alright to you.

Having grabbed some snacks and established some rules with yourself such as “Don’t look men in the eye for too long”, “Don’t stare at other women’s clothes” and “Don’t drink too much alcohol”, you sat down on the first available chair to enviously watch all the beautiful women in the huge ballroom of the villa where the party was being held. How beautiful it must be to be so tall and slender.

After an hour of contemplation you realized that you had completely lost sight of your best friend and, huffing loudly stressed by the situation, you thanked the first waiter you found and took two glasses of wine to drink. With a heavy step, you headed towards a door that had caught your attention. The door was all dressed up in shiny gold, making it look super fancy. Laurel leaves wrapped around the edges, also in gold, adding a nice touch to the whole thing. It stood out and made the entrance feel special, catching the attention of anyone who walked by. How tacky.

After looking around to make sure no one could see you, you tried to gently open the door, which turned out to be open to your great surprise. Inside, in a small room with a velvet sofa in the center, paintings were displayed on the walls, which—even though you were no expert in the field—seemed strangely familiar and extremely expensive.

“This painting by Monet is particularly mesmerizing, isn't it?” You almost jumped in the air with fright and the glasses - previously in your hands - fell to the ground and broke, and the terribly expensive wine ended up spilling all over the imposing figure who had whispered in your ear a second before. “Oh God I'm sorry, are you okay?” Even though you were trying to dry the Valentino tuxedo he was wearing with your hands, the boy didn’t seem to be upset and kept his posture straight. “Do you have any idea how much it costs?” he asked, looking you up and down. “No?”

The blond ran his hand furiously through his hair. Tall, handsome, blond, definitely rich, and, the cherry on top, unbearable. Why me? “Can I pay for the laundry?” “That wouldn’t solve anything” I have two pennies in my account, there’s not much I can do, idiot. “Well then I'll go” You didn't even realize it, but the boy stood in front of the door to block the exit.

“You’re not leaving. You have two problems to solve.” “Which ones, your majesty?” you asked with your eyebrow raised. A cheap dandy didn't scare you. “First, the shards of the glasses you broke. Second, my fine tuxedo" “I can't take the glasses in my hands, I risk dying, you know how it is,” the look he gave you to intimidate you was of little use “And then, speaking of your cheap tuxedo, I offered to pay for your laundry but you refused!" “In no world can someone repay a Valentino jacket and pants with a machine wash?”

Oh, if only you could have hit him, but everything in there could have been traced back to you. From the fingerprints on the door to the fingerprints on the glasses. “There’s a way.” “Let’s hear the bullshit, little prince.” I’ll leave as soon as you say it, asshole. “Work for me. A week as my secretary will be enough for you to pay me back the suit" The satisfied smile that appeared on the blond's face as soon as he saw your mouth open in amazement was not a pretty sight to see.

“How… what… You’re crazy. I’m leaving” You didn’t even have time to turn around before the boy grabbed your arm and forced you to turn and face him. “Leave me alone” “It costs six thousand euros” “What?” “My suit” “Ah”

Maybe it would have been better to mind your own business from the beginning. Maybe it would have been better to eat everything on the buffet: it would have cost you less. This time you felt guilty. “I… I’m sorry, I don’t have the money to pay you back, so, let me go” “No, as soon as you step foot out of this room I’ll go tell the CEO everything. We are great friends and, well, colleagues.” He flashes another of his annoying little smiles.

“Who cares, I don't owe you anything except laundry and a clean shirt” “You owe me a week as my assistant, otherwise it won't be you who will be affected, but those you know” "Excuse me?" “You’re not a model and you don’t work in the luxury fashion industry. You must have accompanied someone. It only takes me two seconds to find out who brought you here and you’ll see what a guy like me can do, besides buying a luxury suit” Now you were in real trouble. Getting your best friend involved meant ending up on the list of shitty friends to quickly forget about.

“Threats are illegal and you're threatening me. I will work for you for a week, but you dare use that tone with me again, just once, and I will make your life hell” It must have been the bloodshot look you were giving him or the way your hands were shaking as you said it, but the boy, faced with such a scene, responded by laughing. “Then I’ll see you on Monday. Give me your number, and I’ll have the company secretary contact you” “Okay” What a situation. It would have been better to binge myself to death.

“Your name?” “What?” “What’s your name?” he asked you again, adding a raised eyebrow to his already rude tone of voice. “Y/n” “Nice to meet you, I’m Ricky and I work as a modeler for Valentino.” The handshake you shared was colder than the weather at the top of Mount Everest.

“You're late” “No one pays me to arrive early” “I'm paying you” “So you're paying me with money that I'll use to pay you back? Brilliant” “You’re giving me your time, honey. Don’t forget that” Not only were you dressed head to toe in clothes that cost more than you’d ever earned in your life, but you were wearing the highest, most uncomfortable heels you’d ever tried on.

Ricky led you to his desk, from which you could keep an eye on both his office - or creative lab, as he called it - and the main entrance. The little prince wanted to know everything that was happening nearby. A thud brought you back to reality. Ricky had just slammed a countless pile of folders and loose papers onto your desk.

“What should I do with them?” “They’re sketches, divide them by collection. You’ll find the collection written on the back, I don’t expect you to be able to recognize a common theme” Too bad I can’t spit in your face, idiot. You replied with a fake smile and watched him walk away. If only he didn't have this bad temper, he wouldn't even be so bad to look at. The work you had to do wasn't that boring after all. While you spent your time shuffling papers, you saw a considerable number of people coming and going: men and women who in turn were full of sketches, and fabrics and were sweating coldly at the mere thought of being late. This Ricky must be quite important. The only things you understood were that your boss was a huge asshole and that he worked relentlessly. At closing time, while everyone was leaving, the blond one still seemed intent on continuing to work for more hours. As the very responsible secretary you were, you couldn't allow your boss to reach a point of no return and so you set off to open the door that led to his office.

Another woman opened it quicker than you. You didn’t realize it and neither did Ricky. Panic took over your body because you had just broken the first rule: don’t let anyone in who isn’t on the list. That woman was not only not on the list, but she was the only one circled in red as “the only person who should never enter my office”

“Shen Quanrui, you poor bastard, answer my calls instead of pretending nothing happened!” the beautiful woman who stood in front of the blond shouted, visibly angry, and from behind you noticed that she had an incredible back. Oh, Ricky… Why do you have all these beautiful women around you?

The blond looked away from the woman who was yelling at him, whispering, “You idiot, why did you let her in?” You responded with a frown. “Ricky, why do you have a new secretary after firing me not even a week ago? “Because I needed one.” “Then why did you fire me and make me look incompetent?” Scream after scream, but seeing Ricky suffer from earaches because of another one made you particularly happy.

“I have no intention of marrying you, you know that, so, I don’t want to have any more contact with you” “I don’t give a shit Ricky, your father said you have to marry me and you will” “I’m not my father” “But your father is the head of this company and the one you owe everything you have now! You will lose everything if you don’t marry me and stop being a child” The woman looked at you and the other with contempt before slamming the door shut and yelling a “Fuck you!” in the hallway.

You started to look intently at Ricky who, overcome by despair, let himself fall with all his weight on his desk chair. “Why does it always have to end like this?” he ran a hand through his hair. “Do you need something to drink?” You asked worried. I even have the nerve to worry about someone who treated me like a doormat. “Actually yes, let's go have a drink Y/n” “Ah yes sure sure. You and me having a drink together. Nice joke" “I'll pay” “Okay, you win, prince of my boots”

“So you're the son of the big boss and I'm just a poor bitch you picked up at the last minute to save your ass after firing your very loyal, money-loving secretary who your father decided you should marry? Well, The Bold and the Beautiful is a cheap soap opera in comparison!” A stifled chuckle escaped the mouth of your, albeit unpleasant, attractive boss.

“All the women in my life have ended up the same way. They met me, maybe fell in love with me a few times, and then my father somehow convinced them to marry me.” “If your father came to me begging me to marry you for a few million euros, I’m sure I would make the same decision as your ex-secretary and the women your father somehow convinced to be part of your life.” Another giggle.

“You know Y/n, I’m not that much of an asshole” “You all say that. Yet you threatened me and forced me to work for you” “I was desperate, I should have explained everything to you right away” Maybe in his heart, Ricky was sorry for everything. Those eyes with which he looked at you showed much more than he had shown you in those few moments spent together.

“I watched you all night at my dad’s party and laughed out loud watching you twiddle food and glasses of wine in your hands. You were a real fish out of water” This time it was your mouth that let out a giggle. “It wasn’t really my place” “Apparently not. But it’s not my place either. I want to do fashion and as soon as I can I’ll leave my dad’s company and start my own” “You dream big, I’ve never been able to do that” “It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud” “It’s the alcohol, Ricky” “Or maybe it’s you, Y/n”

When the feeling of saying too much hit you both, Ricky was the first to move and asked for the bill, and you broke the eerie silence that had been created. “I’ll do this week and disappear from your life. No marriage and no second-class woman in your life. I’ll finish what I have to finish and I’ll pay you back. You’ll go back to your life” “It seems fair”

You walked out the pub's front door but didn’t even say goodbye. The cold hit your face and forced you to wake up from that dream you thought you were living. Who knows how Ricky must have felt every time a woman in his life showed she was more interested in his father’s money than in him? “Well, treat me well” “What?” “I won’t let you treat me like an idiot anymore. Change your ways. Don’t put up a barrier. Don’t worry, I’ll never say yes to your father” “Um…” “Then it seems to me that your father has only chosen great hotties to be your wife, I’m out of category”

Maybe the alcohol had gone to both of your heads, but you forgot about the terrible encounter you had two days before. "I like you" "Good to know" God, why did I become red?

Four days later you and Ricky still hadn't decided to exchange a word. You continued to work and so did he, just at a different pace. Being ignored was the worst feeling you could ever have in your life and you knew it. Your phone screen lit up: your best friend had just texted you asking to meet up. After asking Ricky’s permission to take your lunch break early, you went to a coffee shop near the facility where you worked to meet up with Wendy.

“My love! I haven’t heard from you and I thought the worst!” Wendy entered the venue with great enthusiasm and everyone turned to look at her. “I’ve been busy, now I’ll tell you everything” Wendy’s face, your best friend, changed several times during your story of the events that had happened in the last period; you told her how everything had started because of that party and how you had ended up working for an unpleasant blond who had turned out to be a misunderstood softie.

“Shen Quanrui? Wait, I’ve heard that name before” “He introduced himself to me as Ricky and then this girl came screaming and calling him Shen Quanrui, I told you.” “Oh my God” “What?” “That Shen Quanrui”

You looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds before screaming “Ahhh” together. The only difference was that you screamed in terror. “That Shen Quanrui who studied fashion and design…” Wendy went to take the orders at the counter and sat back down. “Let’s recap,” Wendy took a breath; “the famous Ricky from Valentino is that Shen Quanrui who you fell in love with during college when the three of us did that school project. Except that his father got in the way when he saw us going out together and then offered you, a woman in love, some money to get you away from his son and you didn't accept, convinced that you wanted to declare yourself the next day" “Yes, then what went wrong? I never accepted that money!” Even though the cafeteria was full of people, the silence between you and Wendy became more and more insistent.

“Wendy?” “I accepted that money. And I also took a job at Dolce & Gabbana. I didn’t- I didn’t think it would go this way. Then, well, Ricky disappeared, I think he went to America” “He disappeared because you accepted the money instead of talking to him! You sold your, no, our friendship for something worth much less” “I’m sorry. You know I would never do that now”

Anger coursed through your body. But it didn’t seem right to scold your friend for something she had done in the past. It had already happened. You knew full well that now she would never have the courage to do it again.

“I need to talk to him, but he continues to ignore me” “I could help you” “What are you going to do, Wendy?” Maybe she had too much courage.

It was Sunday, the final day. Wendy was ready to put her plan into action, by hook or by crook. "Good morning, Ricky" "Um" As cold as ever. You heard footsteps in the hallway. It’s time. The door to your office opened, revealing your best friend on the other side in a black suit that hugged her body beautifully. “Did you make it?” “The janitor seems to have a thing for me” Wendy showed you the key and smiled widely, telling you that she would give you an hour and no more. You nodded your head and thanked her. Now it was your turn.

“Ricky, how much longer do you have?” “Five minutes” You opened the door to his lab and looked out. “Do you want to have a drink?” “I don’t like the drunk version of me” Oh, I think so.

You looked at him better one more time. When you were in college he had black hair and a thinner face, and he was definitely less athletic. Now he was tall, blond and he looked at you with those two black puddles of his as if he wanted to bite your heart out.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” “What?” “That it was you”

Ricky seemed to understand and tried to leave the room. “Don’t try that” “Y/n”

Ricky read your desire to clarify in your gaze and with a huff he leaned on the table where he kept all his sketches scattered. “Tell me what you have to tell me, Y/n” “It took me a while but I remembered” Ricky let out a nervous laugh. “And now that you understand, what do you want me to do with this information?”

The no longer handsome black-haired boy who bewitched you at university walked towards the exit door that connected your office and his study to the corridor but soon realized that it was blocked. "Give me an hour, please" "As you wish"

Sitting on the floor, between a pout and a snort from Ricky and tense looks from you, you told your boss for a week how the situation had evolved over the years until your fateful meeting. The boy didn't miss any opportunity to remind you that having a best friend who couldn't use her head hadn't helped your life.

"How much longer?" "Fifteen minutes… Sorry" "That idiot Wendy should be the one to apologize"

Even though you had spent the last thirty minutes finding one way or another to justify your actions of the last few years, in Ricky's eyes you didn't see the understanding you wanted to see; there was an even higher barrier separating you.

"You haven't forgiven me?" you asked, trying to look him in the eyes. "What should I forgive you for? If you forgot me it means you wanted to and if you didn’t realize who I was despite my hair color then I didn’t mean much to you. I may have just been a college crush for you, but you meant, you still mean a lot to me” Was he wrong? No. You had changed, he had changed, but Ricky’s feelings had remained the same for all these years and you had been shaken by a life that had never given you love.

“I… I don’t feel the same. I don’t even know if I’m capable of feeling the same for you, Ricky” “It’s not a tragedy, forget about me like you’ve done until now and everything will be fine” A click on the door lock made you both turn towards the bell: the hour had just ended.

Ricky was the first to get up and head towards the door. He waved to Wendy, who was lurking around the corner and turned to you one last time. “You’re fired.” You picked up your pace, passed Wendy, and, a meter away from the blond, you answered him without fear. “I’ll come back to show you that I haven’t forgotten about you. I’ve never forgotten about you. I may be different, but what was between you and me hasn’t even had time to blossom.” You couldn’t see Ricky’s expression after that last exchange. This was the last time you saw him. And then a year passed.

Life for you went on, for once since your parents had brought you into the world, in a whole new way: you dared to continue your studies in graphic design, now you went to the gym regularly and, even though you still found it boring, you went to high fashion parties with Wendy. What hadn't changed was how you felt about Ricky. You realized only after losing him that what you had felt while being with him for a week had brought out everything you had kept locked away in the drawer of your heart. Everywhere you saw a man as tall as him and with black hair your eyes lit up, only to turn off seconds after you realized they weren't Ricky.

It was during Wendy's birthday party that you heard two of her colleagues talking about the man you had been looking for incessantly for the past year “Shen Quanrui, how funny. I always called him Ricky and he always looked at me badly every time I did it” “Absurd, now he has opened his modeling agency and is looking for models for his first collection” “Oh I can't wait to go. When he worked for his father he made wonderful clothes” In a panic you threw yourself at the two girls who backed away in fear. “Where? When?” “Um… Tomorrow, at four in the afternoon in this area here” the young model handed you a flyer that oozed luxury from every pore. Your next move was decided and you weren't afraid to make it.

So you convinced yourself, but when the next afternoon you found yourself in the middle of all those very tall and beautiful models you almost felt sick. The girls who went first came back sweaty and agitated and shouted out loud that there was a stage outside and about fifty people ready to mock them. What wonderful news.

“Y/n, it’s your turn!” Holy shit. Anxiously, you asked the closest girl for some water and then walked towards the stage, with several giggles accompanying you. The light that blinded you did not allow you to see who and what was in front of you. Only when they threw the light lower, did a lump form in your throat.

Ricky was in front of you, his eyes wide in surprise and his hair black. An insignificant detail for anyone else in the room but not for you. You tried to get the lump in your throat down immediately, but someone with a rougher approach than yours took half the time. “Is she going to introduce herself or do we have to see her battered body?” “Give her time,” Ricky spoke.

It was enough to look into the raven-haired man's eyes to make the lump return to your throat. But that wasn’t what stopped you. The teary eyes were another obvious sign of uncertainty, but you bravely took air into your lungs and raised your voice as high as you could.

“I’m sure I love you. There is no longer anything that can make me say otherwise. I think I love.” The faces of everyone in the room took on various expressions and some began to whisper in the ears of their neighbors. You continued without fear this time.

“I love you, Shen Quanrui. I understood it when I hoped that every stupid middle-aged man had your face, I understood it when I went to see a stupid Monet exhibition hoping that you would whisper in my ear one more time and I understood it when…” Ricky was looking at you impassively.

“I understood it when you ran away to America the first time and I understood it when I was the one who left you the second time.” You were interrupted by a man in his sixties who angrily shouted at the guards to take you away.

“Stop everyone” And so it was. Ricky stood up and with that annoying but charming little smile, he pronounced his final sentence. “I found my muse. We’re done for today, sent all the girls home” Slowly and dazed by what had happened, the men and women inside the theater left. You and Ricky looked into each other’s eyes, alone in your intimacy. “I see that you haven’t changed, you’re always ready to make one disaster after another” “I see that you have changed, maybe that means that?”

“It means that I still love you Y/n. I’ve been waiting for you all this time” He held you in his arms and kissed you for the first time, knowing in his heart that it wouldn’t be the last. A thought crept into your mind. “Oh my god, what we do with your father?” “Y/n I have my own company and we are not Romeo and Juliet, there is no need to make a drama out of it” “Oh, so you are not my Romeo?” Ricky kissed you once more and you felt his smile grow bigger and bigger. He leaned in close to your ear and whispered seven sweet words to you. “I'll be everything you want, forever

[jolalibrary]

iv. before the gold and glimmer

javier peña x f!reader | chapter four of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. an: i adore each of you who are coming along this weird and wonderful journey, we're getting closer, i promise. wordcount: 2.5k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

I’ll be home in an hour.

I’ll be ready 

Are we going to do the crossword tonight or are you going to spend an hour flirting?

too early to comment

I’m bringing my A game. 

to flirt with me? baby you flatter me 

No. Crosswords, you fucking flirt.

hermosa did you just swear at me 

I did. Now I have to concentrate, stop distracting me. 

Javi is aware that his pop is thinking things. 

Has been since the phone conversations began. The ones initially having slotted in when the house was empty. Quiet. Just him and his thoughts banging around, occasionally punctured by him pressing the keys on his phone until the phone rang.

Now, the phone calls have bled out into quick chats on other nights (Javi’s hand over his mouth, trying to muffle a laugh). He’s caught sight of his pop’s smirk more than once.

He’s very aware that he hasn’t helped things by dropping your name into conversations.

Accidentally, at first.

Then just accepting his fate and embracing it. Talking about you as if you’re this fully fleshed thing in front of him—mentioning the news thing you’d heard, something funny you’d said. 

He even mentioned you to Murphy. Again, not on purpose. 

Steve was quick. Picking up on it immediately in their latest monthly catch-up where usually Javi listens to how amazing, disruptive and yet tiring kids are—how Miami would be good for him, and that Connie misses him. This time it segwayed suddenly into, and who might she be then, Jav? 

It had crossed his mind to play it down. To conceal you—because a part of him suspects he should hate all of it.

Before, he had always preferred secrecy. Kept the women he had been seeing behind lock and key. Partially due to the nature, the risk—now, though, he thinks he just doesn’t want to share. 

Doesn’t want to taint it. Selfishly wanting to keep you all to himself, his slice of happiness that no one can dull.

It also aids in holding himself back from falling over the cliff, tumbling into ruin because he let himself get ahead of himself. 

Feel too much, too quick, because Javi didn’t even know what you looked like. Hadn’t eyed you up across a bar, hadn’t spotted you in the aisle of the store.

You’d stumbled into his life.

No reason, no real cause or explanation, and now he’s not entirely sure as to why he feels the amount he does. That he cares, that he likes you. How that when he talks to you, he feels only happy, content and joy—like he could do and be anything.

You provide the key to the semblance of normalcy he’s been longing for. Liking what others would think is mundane, like about your day. Now he longs for it all face to face, where he can read your face instead of dissecting your voice. 

She’s just someone I’ve been talking to. Don’t—don’t even know her, really.  You knew all the others well before? Fuck off, Murphy.  Just sayin’, sometimes, shit just don’t make sense, Jav. 

Steve says it as though it answers all his problems. 

Like he thinks the words will make all the pieces click into place, suddenly cemented and real—all understood and no longer complex. 

But it’s all still very much messy—a tangling of feelings that ready exist and more which threaten to come.

In truth, he doesn’t mind the complications of it all. He just thinks it’s best to protest it a little. Pretend he hasn’t abandoned all logic just because someone made him smile and feel a little less broken.

Because he knew, just like those around him, that he was done for. 

It all perfectly evidenced by the fact he doesn’t mind when his pop begins giving him one of those smirks more often than not—the ones surrounded by wiry white hair, partnered with a knowing look on his face. The same conversation circling, the one that’s been going on for days now—

“When the two of you meeting?”  “I don’t know, pop.”  “You made plans to see her yet?” “No, pop.”  “You should go see her. You need a break.” “Pop.” 

At some stage, his pop stops beginning it—challenging him. Now he just signals the words with a look. One he assumes parents are given when their child enters the world—the one that is part knowing and part ‘you know you’re going to do what I’m saying, anyway’.

Javi hates that more than he hates the rest of the situation. 

Because his pop isn’t wrong. He wants to see you, watch your expressions instead of imagining them. 

Not just to see what you look like, but so that he can see how you react when he says certain things. Whether you scrunch your nose or your lips curl before you smile; whether you hide your face when he embarrasses you, or whether you fold your arms and pout. 

Each time the two of you text or call, he thinks it—wants to bring it up and ask.

A need in him growing, in the same way his feelings do. Multiplying, quivering in his bones when you laugh, and it travels straight to his heart—making it swell and bloom. Filling the expanse of his chest until he isn’t sure he can feel any more happiness. 

Picking up the phone on the first ring, he hears your usual chirpy hey, which he follows with his now usual: “Hey baby.” 

“¿Cómo estás, Javi?”

“Ay, you’ve been practising.” 

Hearing you laugh makes him smile. Unknots the stresses of the day from him as he pulls the chair over—sitting on it as his head rests against the wall. 

“I purchased a Spanish for kids book, so that’s my skill level.” 

Smirking, he rolls his lips. “You trying for me?” 

“Sí.”

Snorting, he rubs the bridge of his nose. “Eres tan linda, querida.” 

“I know the last word means darling.” 

“I said you are very cute.” 

You pause, a shuffling sound coming from your side of the phone before the softest of sighs. “You’re making me blush, again.” 

“You make it too easy.” 

“Stop,” you say, all fake warning and all likely accompanied by a cute smile, “How’s your day been—tell me you got a splinter in your ass?” 

Smirking, he slumps further into the chair, legs spread, spare hand resting on his thigh. “Starting to think you only talk to me for my body.”

The laugh you let out is closer to a howl, and his cheeks hurt from hearing it—his grin so large, it doesn’t fade for hours. 

apprehensive feeling, 5 

Come on, Javi. 

I think it may be angst 

If I were there I’d kiss your cheek. 

I know you mean that in a nice way but it feels demeaning 

Oh no I meant it as the latter. 

is that how we’re being

You tell me. 

paris divider, 5 

Seine. You ever been to Paris?

no have you 

Not yet. 

not yet? 

Well there’s always time. Heard it’s a romantic place to go.

maybe if you were nicer someone would take you 

You make a good point. 

things go ok this morning

Not like I wanted but not the worst. I can apply but they’re playing the experience card again. 

bullshit, you ok

I will be. Thank you for checking in on me. 

you can tell me if youre not yknow

I just need to destress is all. It’s like talking to a fucking wall sometimes.

fuck I love it when you swear 

Javi, stop. 

do you really want me to 

No. But you’re making my face burn. 

bet you look real pretty getting embarrassed 

I actually do not, so you should stop so you don’t inflict the face on others. 

I don’t believe you

Maybe one day you’ll see it for yourself so you can believe me 

wish one day was today 

Why would you destress me? 

baby I’d make sure you couldn’t even think the word stress never mind feel it 

You confident in that? 

youll have to find out

Something was different in the air the moment he woke up. 

Things went far easier than they normally would. No one tried to bowl him over during feeding. The fence he went to check on didn’t look all that bad—and there wasn’t even a queue when he visited the homeware store for pop. 

There also wasn’t a rain cloud in the sky.

And it put him on edge. 

His gut—the one he had relied on to take down the narcos—flared back to life. It could be a good day, a once-in-a-blue moon, a blessing in a sea of disguise. 

But rationality didn’t stop him from checking over his shoulder, do a final sweep of the land. 

It had been like that when he’d first gotten back. All on edge, finding it difficult to settle. He had smoked back then, worse than he had done when he’d been over in Colombia. It’s why he’d chosen to quit.

Now, he rotated the phone between his finger and thumb, feeling it vibrate against his palm, checking if it was you before he allows the smile—the one you pull from him by just texting him—blossom. 

So I have good news and I have bad news lead with the bad first I can’t call you on Thursday night

His heart drops, plummets. 

A part of him knew something bad was around the corner. Taking in your text, over and over. Checking he understood it as he climbed the stairs up the porch. 

Javi rolls his head on his neck, staring up—the flies around the porch light buzzing away as he tries to compose himself. 

Somehow always knowing that deep down, this day would come. His mind is too quick to act, abruptly busy with conjuring thoughts. That old analytical part of him whirs back to life as it tries to make heads or tails of the situation in front of him, as though it was a case.

Because he suspects that your good news is that you have a date—someone you’ve seen face to face and has swept you off your feet. A person who will take you away from him because he can’t offer you that.

Plus, you don’t even know him.

Not really. 

He’s just this person you text. 

This person he feels…

well fuck. The good news best be the best news ever I think it is. Don’t tease me, querida Says you, baby.

Baby?

It takes him a second. 

The four letters blowing all the conjured theories well and truly out of the water. 

His eyes trace over the letters, even after he’s sent the reply. Javi’s heart suddenly in his throat, pulse in his ear—the blood banging around. 

Shut up. Anyway I can’t call you because I’ll be on an early flight in the morning to Houston. Work needs me to check out some odd sales. You’ll be in Texas? Yeah. So the good news is, if you meant what you said, we could meet in person.

He swallows, spine straightening—posture suddenly pristine, making the muscles in his back ache from the day as they flex and tighten under his shirt. 

You want to meet him. 

Or he thinks. 

Not wanting to read between the lines—needing the confirmation, to hear you say it. His shirt begins to cling to his back, hair falling over his forehead as sweat grows, strands of hair being grasped against his skin.

You want to meet me? Of course, I’m the one suggesting it. But if you don’t, that’s fine. I mean, I’ll begin judging how lonely you actually are if you don’t. But it’s fine.

His thumbs aren’t quick enough. 

Each text firing in—and he wishes, more than he usually does, that he could be there with you. Clutch your cheek, assure you, make you breathe—

baby breathe. I want to meet you, I do But? but nothing

Even if there is. 

There seems like there’s a but

Javi doesn’t mean to, but he laughs. 

Somehow, miles away—you can already read him. Know him. His thumb massaging his nose, wrist hiding his smile from the world. 

I’m nervous about the fact you could see me and never want to speak to me again You think I’m that shallow? No. It’s just you’ve been the best thing about my day in a long, long time, querida Call me. it’s late isn’t it Javi. 

He moves, the chair he had been on almost toppling over as he opens the storm door and then the next. Moving into the kitchen, not even needing to pull your number up. He knows it. 

It’s burned into him. 

The receiver meets his ear as you answer in record time as your voice greets his ears. Followed by a sigh when he greets you in a low-whisper.

“Javi, I feel the same.” 

He swallows. “Yeah?” 

Silence greets him before you do a soft laugh. That little one he’s begun noticing you do when you later tell him you’ve just nodded or shrugged—forgetting he can’t see down the phone. 

“I wanted you to call so you could hear it. That I want to meet you because I can’t stop thinking about you. And that might be insane, and odd. But… I like you. I feel things.” 

“I know,” he says, pressing his forehead against the wall—eyes closing, hand tightening around the phone. “I like you, too.” 

Javi hears it. The discernible way you relax. 

It comes across in the way you take a breath, in the way he suddenly feels his own shoulders slide from his ears. 

“But if it’s too soon, I can use some time off—“

“No, cariño. No. I… I want to. I’ll be there.” 

You swallow—loud in the silence. Almost clunky. “I’m scared too.” 

Opening his eyes, he stares at the peeling paint. Something running over him, from his head to his feet. It whispers to relax, to breathe—allowing him fully to do both. 

“You could… I don’t know, see me and find I don’t match the image of me you’ve created. Or, find me horribly boring. Or that I’m actually the strangest person. It’s scary. I’m scared too.” 

He nods, smiling to himself. “I’ll pick you up from the airport.”

“You don’t have to—“

“Baby.” It silences you, and the thought makes him smile. “I’ll pick you up from the airport, okay?”

It takes a beat. 

A full ten seconds. 

“We’re going to meet,” you say softly, almost wistfully. 

And it cracks then, a smile. A real one. His usual one. Turning on the spot, pressing his back against the wall, head meeting it as he lets the grin spread into his cheeks, almost to his eyes if his thumb and finger didn’t begin rubbing them. 

“We’re gonna meet,” he replies.

Opening his eyes, seeing the noticeable flicker of the television—its shimmering light flittering through the doorway, illuminating his pop, who is standing smiling at him. 

AN: remember, if you wish to see the deleted 18+ scene for the birthday bash, be sure to check back on 8th of July, otherwise see you next Tuesday 

next ->

[hjparisian]

so long, london- remus j lupin x reader

p: remus lupin x fem!reader w: sad, angst, like one or two cuss words, mentions of death s: the deaths of lily and james potter and the imprisonment of sirius black have led to a rift between (y/n) and remus' relationship. both haunted by that one night, it was only a matter of time until one of them left a/n: please bear with me in this as im not super knowledgable about the mauraders era but i hope this is okay! if yall have a 1000 page doc about this era, send it my way

Halloween of 1981 had to have been one of the darkest days in history. Lily and James Potter were dead, killed by Voldemort. Peter Pettigrew, dead, killed by his own friend Sirius Black, who is now in Azkaban.

Remus was still grieving the death of Marlene McKinnon when he found out about what happened to his best friends. He could barely hold in his tears as he held (Y/N) in his arms, who was already sobbing at the news.

The two couldn't believe it. How could Sirius Black sell out his own best friend and his wife to the Dark Lord? How could he kill his friends? Had he been hiding his loyalty this whole time?

The days following James and Lily's deaths were spent in darkness. Remus would sit in the room he and (Y/N) shared, staring at the fairy lights stringed about the walls. (Y/N) would spend her mornings doing tasks for the Order, while at night she would wallow in the arms of Remus.

Just when they thought things were terrible, it unfortunately got worse.

(Y/N) and Remus' good friend Dorcas Meadowes was found dead. Killed by Voldemort himself. Why? They'll never know.

The two were distraught, (Y/N) more so than Remus as she was closer to Dorcas. It appeared that (Y/N) would follow in Remus' own routine, hiding away in the spare bedroom that they used to let their friends rest in when they were over. At nights, she would return to her and Remus' bedroom to shower and sleep.

Remus could hear her sobs during her showers.

As the days went on, (Y/N) had began to accept the fate of her friends. Or she was hiding her true emotions from Remus, who remained a mess at the loss of his mates. Each day, (Y/N) would try to talk with Remus and get him out of the house. Unfortunately, the only time he would leave was during the full moon so not to hurt her.

Remus began distancing himself from (Y/N). He'd wake up earlier than her, he would have lunch before her, he would keep himself locked in the bedroom during the day, wait 'til she was asleep to turn in.

Anything to be alone.

(Y/N) had tried to follow Remus' new routine, trying to catch him whenever she could. Even if she had to wake up earlier than she would, even if she had to stay up later to see Remus join her in bed. Anything she could to try to talk with Remus.

Silly girl.

It became rare for the two to even have a long lasting conversation, let alone a lighthearted, joyful chat. Any words spoken were those of sorrow and anger. The young woman had once attempted to talk to Remus about his mood changing, trying to get him to talk through it.

It ended in tears and slamming doors.

Since that talk, tensions between the two were higher than ever, and not in the way one may think. They began to have more arguments in a month than they ever had in their entire relationship.

Though one argument was not like the others.

"Rem, come on!" She pleaded with him. "You haven't been outside in months! Everybody is starting to assume you're dead!"

"Well let them think that! Everyone I cared or loved is already dead. Anyone who's ever loved me is gone."

"But what about me?" She asked him. "I'm still here Remus. But lately you act like I'm not!"

Remus stops his tracks in the living room. "Sorry that our friends dying has affected me so badly."

"Remus, you're acting like you're the only one affected by their deaths." She says to him. "I'm upset about it too. They were my friends as much as they were yours."

"You never knew James or Sirius or Peter like I did," Remus yells at her. "You never spent most of your school years with them, knowing every little thing about them."

"That doesn't mean we weren't friends and you know that Remus. You're acting like they were the only people you've lost," the woman says. "I lost Lily. I lost Marlene, Dorcas. Hell, have you even heard about what happened to Mary? She's gone missing Remus! They're saying she might've been killed."

"You don't need to remind me everyone that's gone, (Y/N)! I'm more than aware of what's happening and I don't need to be reminded."

The woman huffed. "Well with the way you're locked up here, it seems like it."

"Not everyone can carry on with their lives after finding out someone who was basically like family is dead!" Remus shouts.

"Well, sorry I've been busy distracting myself with work from the Order! Trying to do what I can to help anyone that left!"

All Remus could do was roll his eyes, frustration clouding his emotions. "Why even bother? They couldn't save our friends, now they're gone! You're being stupid."

"Remus-"

"Bloody hell, I can't do this. I'm leaving." The boy declares, having enough of this.

Remus stomped out the door, slamming it behind him. All (Y/N) could do was dropped to her knees in tears, exhaustion hitting her. Sobs filled the empty room.

The man fled to the streets of London, finding shelter in a hotel near the heart of the city. He spent a few nights there, getting the space he felt he deserved. Remus had no one to talk to about this, and sitting in a lonely white bed had reminded him of it.

No James. No Lily.

No Sirius. No Marlene.

No Peter. No Dorcas.

No Mary.

He had no one. Except (Y/N).

Oh what an idiot he is.

Remus had let his anger get the best of him. He had yelled at his favorite girl and basically told her to fuck off. What a dick he is. The fight had began to flood his head, reminding him of how much he screwed up.

He had to go find her.

The werewolf quickly left the hotel, determined to return to where he and (Y/N) were last together.

He ran to the streets and waved his arms haphazardly, aiming to flag down the nearest cab. He stumbled inside the next one that stopped for him and told him the address.

As soon as the cab stopped by his house, Remus gave him money and ran to the door. He took the key from his pocket and unlocked their apartment door. He pushed the door open to a silent living room.

"Hello?" Remus calls out. "(Y/N) are you here?"

The young man began wandering through the apartment, which seemed slightly emptier than usual. His bedroom seemed the most off to him. He couldn't have been away that long, right?

A white envelope sitting against a vase on the night stand had caught his eye. 'Remus' was written on the front in pretty handwriting that he knew belonged to his girlfriend. He opened it up to reveal a letter for him.

He sat on the floor against his bed and began reading it. As he read through it, he felt his heart crumbling to pieces. It felt like everything was hitting him all at once.

Remus,

I've decided it was time for me to say so long to the place I once called home.

As much as I love this place, London, England, I cannot bear being here anymore. All the memories I've made with everyone will haunt me knowing I've been the unfortunate one who was chosen to be alive out of them.

I'll be leaving the country to go who knows where. Anywhere will be better than here. I think I'd implode if I stayed here any longer.

I've also decided to start clean and leave my wizarding roots behind. As much as I loved being a witch, going to Hogwarts and learning magic, I can't think about it without being reminded of what happened. I don't want my past to follow me around.

I'm sorry I couldn't have done better, Remus. I'll miss you, and I hope your life gets better. Hope you find someone better.

~(Y/N).

The letter fell from his hands.

Remus couldn't believe it. He had lost the last person in his life that cared for him. His whole world was gone, taken from him.

"Fuck."

He stood up and shoved the vase to the ground out of anger, watching it shatter. Water ran across the floor under the broken pieces and ruined flowers.

A wave of emotions hit Remus all at once. He didn't know what to feel. There was nothing he could do to change the past.

Poor young Remus. He was truly alone, forever.

[reallyromealone]

ITS MY BIRTHDAYYYYYYYY

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY

I KNOW IM LATE BUT HERE IS YOUR BIRTHDAY FIC :D

🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

Ever since meeting (name), the host club had wanted to spend time more and more and Mikey was practically scratching at the door like a cat to hang out with them.

"So mitchy~ got any plans?" Mikey asked the beta excitedly as the bottle blonde worked on school work after club hours, focused "just celebrating my brother's birt--""his what?" The host club all turned to look at takemichi who absolutely regretted speaking "his birthday..."

"His birthday is coming up and you didn't tell us?!"

The entire host club looked annoyed to say the least as the Haitani brothers already were searching things on Kokos laptop, the cat eyed alpha annoyed at this "what are you guys doing?" Shinichiro asked curiously and Takemichi sighed "we were going to go to a ramen place he really likes"

(Name) was chatting with his friends as he walked off school grounds, halting when he noticed expensive S.U.Vs and everyone whispering but decided to just ignore it, wandering off home.

"(Name)!" Mikey yelled out and (name) stumbled as the short alpha clung to him, seeing the host club including his brother pile out of the cars, in casual clothes as poor Takemichi looked like he wanted to be anywhere but where.

"Happy birthday!" Ran and Rindō said with a glimmer in their eyes "oh! Thank you.." (name) was uncomfortable as everyone at schools eyes were on him and the host club practically whisked him off.

"We got you an outfit!" Koko said happily and (name) looked confused "why?"

"Because this your birthday!" He replied and (name) didn't know how to react... They said they were taking him out? Wasn't that the gift?

They took a pitstop as takemichi and (name)s place and let (name) change into his birthday outfit, Takemichi already drained by his friends.

The host club looked at (name) in awe as he stepped out in the cute outfit they picked for him.

Shinichiro watched the other hosts fondly as they dragged (name) around "let's go!"

"Where are we going?" (Name) asked confused and Draken lifted him "surprise" he snarks with a grin.

"A theme park?" (Name) was confused as he was led inside, a wristband put on him as his brother snapped a photo of his confusion "yeah! It's your birthday so let's have fun!"

(Name) let the alphas drag him around though looked nervous at how much money they were spending, the Alphas were very obviously showing their ability to care for him and the plush toys they won for him they not so secretly scented "thank you..."

Takemichi watched fondly, he knew what these idiots were doing and knew they would treat him well, they even asked him if they could bring (name) into a possible pack with them.

The entire day was spent with them doting on (name), Shinchiro leaving after the amusement park and Takemichi needing to go finish a project for class.

Did they get the nicest area at a high end Tokyo restaurant "I never been to roppongi..." (name) looked around in awe and Ran totally didn't snap a picture "hah? Really?" Draken mumbled and pulled Mikey from dragging (name) everywhere as they went into the restaurant.

(Name) looked overwhelmed at the menu so Koko ordered for him "you have a good birthday?" Rindō asked him softly, over the times they hung out with (name), the more they grew attached.

(Name) saw them at their worst.

"This dinner isn't just for your birthday we must confess" Koko said to the Omega who looked confused"we have been thinking for--"" join our pack!" Mikey said impatient and (name) looked surprised at this "you...you want me?" (Name) would be a liar if he didn't feel something for these guys but he squashed any idea of them feeling the same.

He wasn't prepared for this.

"Of course we do, why wouldn't we?" Draken raised an eyebrow at him and (name) fidgeted "do you accept?" Kokos eyes looked hopeful and (name) started crying and nodded, overwhelmed.

The following weeks were insane, between a transfer to Ouran and his new alphas practically showering him with gifts and hanging out with them as an unofficial member of the host club, it didn't feel real as he snuggled in his nest with his alphas clothes, relaxed and happy.

[lizzyk137]

Y/n and Gibbs are best friend's with benefits which nobody knows about. Y/n isn't the type to keep a relationship at least as long as they have known her, she would say she's married to the job. Tony asks why he can't get a woman to stay y/n tells him remembering there names the next morning is a good start to which he asks when the last time she saw any action. Gibbs who over hears this knows the answer but also realizes you won't ask him to get involved just kind of smacks Tony's head. Tony spends the entire week making jabs about y/n non exist love life causing her to be irritated in turn distant from Gibbs. Gibbs Warnes him to back off as she is gonna snap By the end of the week Gibbs can tell she is gonna lose it he is intent on making sure she does so with only him around so he can defuse the it without and broken bones. as the team waits for the elevator Tony says one last thing she hits her limit, makes to punch him causing Gibbs to grab her by the waist and push her into the elevator telling the rest to take the stairs as the doors close.

Annoyance- Agent Gibbs (Gibbs X Reader)

Warnings: teasing/slight bullying, a head slap, burst of anger, and some nice fluff

Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

"Tomorrow night?" Gibbs asks, just before the elevator doors open.

"Yep." You answer and walk out towards the bullpen while Gibbs passes you and heads up to the Director's office.

"I just don't know if none of them want to be in a committed relationship." Tony was spinning in his chair, chatting with McGee.

"Tony, I don't think I'm one to be getting advice on this." McGee shook his head.

"Ahhh, yes, lonely McGee." Tony swiveled his chair till his eyes landed on you. "But you. You can help."

You rolled your eyes as you sat your bag down. Not because Tony annoyed you, but rather, his questions annoyed you. "And what can I help you with, Tony?"

"Why don't women want to stay?"

"Stay where?"

"Stay more than just the night. I've met some wonderful women recently, and none of them want to stay more than the night. Women just don't want to stay in a committed relationship anymore!"

You chuckled at his question and answered back teasingly. "Well, remembering their names could be a start."

McGee laughed as Tony stood up and leaned against your desk. "And when was the last time you got any?"

"I don't think I need to disclose that information." You said, thinking about what had happened this morning with Gibbs.

You both had been friends-with-benefits ever since a near death experience in which Gibbs took you to his place, and then one thing led to another, and now, a year later, you've been having fun no strings attached. Well, at least for Gibbs. You both were married to your job. Anyone could see that, but the feelings you had for each other were protective and caring.

"I think you don't want to disclose it cause you haven't been getting it." Tony laughed.

You rolled your eyes as Tony whipped his body around teasingly, singing how you didn't get any action, stopping when he turned to face Gibbs, who had been standing right behind him. "Uh... Boss, hey, I was just talking with- ow!" Tony rubbed the back of his head after Gibbs gave him a big slap on the back of his head. The sound of the slap causes you to smirk at the satisfying sound.

"We got a dead body in Glenns. Gear up."

You sent a thankful look to Gibbs as you collected your stuff. Gibbs knew you wouldn't say anything about your relationship with him. Even though he gave you the okay, he knew you still wouldn't. You both had never talked about keeping it a secret. You both just did with respect to each other. Plus, the number of questions the team would have and the constant teasing from DiNozzo would be the death of you.

The rest of the week would consist of two cases and constant teasing from Tony. "Got another date with Taylor this afternoon. What are you doing later night, Y/N?"

"Tony, don't push me. I'm not in the mood." You got up from your desk and walked out of the bullpen.

"DiNozzo." Gibbs called out, reading glass on as he looked down at a document, his pointer finger motioning him closer.

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Leave her alone. She's got enough to handle on this case."

"Boss, I'm just teasing her." Tony chuckled.

"Yeah? I'm telling you to stop it."

Tony sighed and walked away, Gibbs watching him annoyed. In the past week, you had pulled away from him, not wanting to get together after work and barely saying anything at work. He knew you were upset with Tony. You loved your job and were committed to it, but he knew you gave up any chance at a relationship because of it.

You just hit your thirties, and while everyone around you was starting families or getting married, all you had was work and some amazing nights with your boss that you couldn't talk about. He knew you secretly wanted a relationship even if you never said anything. He also knew you'd bottle up your emotions and annoyance until it became too heavy to carry, and you'd snap.

He wanted to defuse anything privately and quickly before you went after DiNozzo for saying something stupid. He was hoping that today he would get the chance before you snapped.

"Y/N." Gibbs called out as he caught a glimpse of you heading down towards the interrogation rooms. He jogged down the hall to you and entered the viewing room right behind you.

"What did you need, Gibbs?" You asked sighing as you collected some loose papers on the sound station.

"Just checking on you. Making sure you're okay." He said, your straight face not changing. "Ya looked stressed."

"I'm not. Just annoyed and tired. These two cases back to back have been kicking my ass." You sat on the edge of the table and looked at Gibbs. He could see the exhaustion in your face. He came over and wrapped his arms around you, but you pushed him away. "I gotta go bring these to booking."

He nodded and stepped away as you walked out of the room.

"So I was telling her, Taylor, we got to try this new restaurant this weekend, and she said, well, what she said was not something I can mention at work. But the bottom line is that we got a romantic getaway in a snowy cottage that we won't be leaving this weekend." Tony rambled as you waited for the elevator.

You sighed, mentally preparing yourself for a teasing comment. Gibbs next to you watching your reaction, hoping he'd still have part of his senior field agent if you snapped.

"So, Y/N," Tony drawled out your name. "What are you up to this weekend? Another lonely night reading with a bottle of rosé?"

Gibbs saw your eye twitch then your whole body turned to face DiNozzo, a growl coming out of your mouth, as he grabbed your body in his arms pulling you into the now opened elevator as you tried to get away to yell at Tony.

"Take the stairs!" Gibbs yelled to a stunned Tony and McGee while pushing the close door button on the elevator as he tried to detain you.

Once the doors closed, he pulled the emergency switch and let you go. He watched as you breathed deeply, then rested your head against the side of the elevator, letting out an annoyed grunt.

"I know, I know. I shouldn't have snapped and tried to go after him."

"I didn't say anything."

"Ugh, you don't have to. I can feel your gaze on the back of my head." You turned around, leaning up against the wall looking at Gibbs. "I guess it was just weighing on me."

"What? Tony or you annoyance with not having a relationship."

You rolled your eyes. "Gibbs, I don't have any problem not being in a relationship. My job is my relationship."

"If it wasn't a problem then why get so upset? And your job shouldn't be your relationship."

"The pot calling the kettle black there, Gibbs. You're married to the job, so what's the difference."

Gibbs took a step towards you. "You're young. You'll find someone. I've lived my life, and I sure as hell had my fair share of relationships."

"Gibbs, I've tried, but no one gets what I do for my job. The canceling, the long nights, the never being able to talk about work until the case is over. God, I have to fuck my boss in order to get some." You cried frustrated. You weren't a crier but this was getting to you for some reason and you didn't know why.

"Why not me?"

You looked up, confused. "What do you say?"

"I said, why not me? We're already doing it. We both know how this job gets. Half our nights are spent together anyway. It has been a year, so why not give it a shot?"

You stared at Gibbs in disbelief. You blinked a few times to make sure you weren't imagining things, but you weren't. Gibbs was looking at you with a small smirk on his face, watching the gears turn in your head as you tried to figure out.

"Are you seriously suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Gibbs' smirk just got bigger as he came closer to you, his body brushing up against yours. His hands on either side of your head as he leaned in and brought his lips to yours. He pulled away and winked at you.

"Why don't we give DiNozzo something to talk about?"

[whrthewindgoes]

Here is the next chapter to Third Wheel. I’m sorry this took so long to get out but I’ve literally been in my head about posting it 😑 Also sorry if there is are any grammar mistakes or typos I am way too tired to recheck it! But I hope y’all enjoy 🥰

Third Wheel

Series Summary: After a terrible break up with your boyfriend of 5 years, you plan a long visit to Cincinnati to visit your cousin Ja’Marr. This was meant to be a time to catch up and make up for lost time, but no one could predict you’d fall in love with his long time friend and teammate.

Chapter Summary: You’ve made yourself comfortable in your new space for the foreseeable future, now it’s time to spend some much needed time with your cousin Ja’Marr.

Series Warnings: Angst, mentions of anxiety, mentions of cheating, fluff, smut, alcohol, weed (that’s all I can think of right now!)

Chapter Warnings: Angst and anxiety

How did I get here?

You spent the remainder of your first day in Ohio unpacking and making yourself comfortable in your new surroundings. You really didn’t want to do much the first couple of days there, the long travel and flight delays were enough to deplete your energy for the entire weekend. You did however make sure to check in with your parents once you got settled, as you knew they were worried about you. You sent them a text as soon as you landed, but you knew they’d want to hear your voice rather sooner than later. “So yeah, I made it safely despite getting here an entire 8 hours later than I planned.” You were on the phone chatting with your mom while you looked through the spacious walk in closet. It was Sunday night, and you and Ja’Marr made plans to hang out together the following Monday. You had taken the entire week off of work to allow yourself to get acquainted in Ohio, so you were looking forward to some much needed time off with your cousin. You reached into one of the many drawers located in the closet, pulling out a bright pink workout ensemble— a solid pink sports bra with matching seamless tights. “I can wear this with my black jacket.” You mumbled quietly to yourself, forgetting for a moment during the silence that your mother was still on the phone line. “Are you and Ja’Marr going out tonight? Are you picking out something to wear?” Your mom sounded almost a little too eager to hear whether you had plans or not. “We have plans to start tomorrow’s day with a run, and after that we’re going to hang out and see where the day takes us.” You said, folding the outfit neatly and placing it on top of the dresser as you shut the closet door. “A run huh? I remember we couldn’t pay you guys to leave the track when you were back in high school. Remind me again why you ever quit the track team?” You rolled your eyes, not wanting to indulge your mom in this conversation again for what felt like the millionth time. You ran track in high school and you were pretty damn good at it, but an ankle injury kept you from wanting to pursue it longer. You felt like you lost too much time after the injury, and that you were just never good enough. Your parents made sure to remind you of what could have been, even though you really only ever wanted to do it for fun in the first place. “Mom, how many times do I have to say that was the past. Besides, I never wanted track and field to be my entire life. That was a you and dad thing, remember?” You said firmly, reminding your mom of the boundaries you set on this topic previously. “If you say so, K. I just know you would’ve an olympic star had you kept at it.” Your mom was the only one who referred to you as K, and you knew she only used that nickname when she wanted downplay the conversation, or when she disagreed with what you were saying. This was enough to slightly annoy you, and so you hurried to make an excuse to get off the phone in order to avoid any more unnecessary comments from her. “Okay mom, I have to go. I really need to be well rested because you know Ja’Marr, he doesn’t play about his early morning work outs.” “Okay sweetie, I’ll talk to you soon. Let me know how everything goes tomorrow! Love you!” Your mom sounded completely oblivious to the fact that you were slightly annoyed. “Goodnight mom, I’ll tell you all about it of course. Love you too!” You said hanging up quickly. You sighed and sat the phone on the bed, allowing your body to follow suit shortly after. You put your face in your palms and shook your head left to right. “How the hell did I end up here?” You said quietly, running your fingers along your eyebrows simultaneously. You pulled your journal out of the nightstand next to the bed, writing down your thoughts from the last couple of days before turning off the lamp and passing out for the night.

After sleeping for what seemed like 5 minutes, you involuntarily opened your eyes—the bright sun illuminating the entire bedroom. You rub your eyes and allow them to come into focus, spotting Ja’Marr in the corner continuing to pull the curtains open. “Ja’Marr, what the fuck?! What fucking time is it?” You sit up in the bed, placing your right hand over your eyes while your elbow rests on your thigh. You could barely fathom what day it was, let alone why anyone would want to be up as early as it seemed to be. “It’s 6am, sunshine. Let’s go, when I said morning work out I meant morning. Get up! Ja’Marr scoffed, not one bit phased by the fact that he woke you up out of a deep ass sleep. “Yeah and when I agreed to visit, I didn’t think I was signing up for bootcamp! Who the fuck wakes up THIS early to work out?! It’s off season for you!” You glanced at your phone on the nightstand, rolling your eyes when you noticed the clock said 6:09am. “I don’t even think the birds are up this early bro.” You scoffed, dragging one leg around the edge of the bed, hesitant to do the same with the other leg as you wanted to stay cozy in the bed. “Yeah, well I need all the conditioning I can get. I can never be too ready for the start of the season. Hurry up will you?” You glared at him as he started to leave the room to allow you to get ready. “Remind me again why I came here?!” You said raising your voice just enough so he could hear you. You went into the bathroom and got yourself ready for the morning. You tied your hair in a high pony tail with a braid, knowing any other style would just sweat out from running. When you were all dressed, you sat on the edge of the bed lacing up your nikes, grabbing your earbuds and phone from the nightstand before heading out of the bedroom.

You quickly made your way around the house, pacing to the kitchen to grab something to drink. Upon entering, you noticed 2 frosty glasses on the kitchen counter. Ja’Marr entered from around the corner, “I made protein smoothies, can’t run on an empty stomach.” You shot an excited look at him in agreement, making your way over to the counter to take a sip. Your face changed quickly after you tasted the drink, turning your lips up and holding the glass in front of you while looking at it in suspense. “Oh my god, ugh! What the hell is in this?!” You asked Ja’Marr. “What you mean? It’s good, just drink it so we can be on our way!” You plugged your nose and chugged down the rest, making giving a disgusted look at both the texture and the taste. “Yeah okay, tastes like straight up ass if you ask me!” “Yeah you would know exactly what that tastes like huh?” Ja’Marr said laughing, heading toward the front door.

The two of you began by stretching, you paying extra attention to your stretches since it had been quite some time since you had a been on a run. You always kept up with working out, but running was just a different beast for you. You both started the run out steadily paced, Ja’Marr making sure not to have you bite off more than you could chew too quickly. You came up on a short hill, you silently cursing yourself for ever agreeing to this in the first place. “Shit.” You mumbled to yourself, trying your best to keep up with Ja’Marr as he made running up the short hill look extremely easy. You noticed your heart rate increasing, your apple watch alerting you as you reach the peak of the hill. You tried to ignore it, however you could literally hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You quickly removed your earbuds, stopping in your tracks as Ja’Marr paced on. You bent over forward placing your hands on your knees, breathing heavily, your heart rate showing no signs of slowing. You closed your eyes and took an intentional breath, noticing a hand on your back once you let the breath out. “What’s going on? You need a break?” Ja’Marr asked, sounding sincerely concerned. “I don’t know…I just. I think it’s too much.” Ja’Marr gave you a look as if a lightbulb went off in his head, realizing this was probably the first time you had been on a run since your high school track days. He knew how much pressure your parents put on you to succeed, essentially sucking the fun out of the task at hand. “Hey, this is just for fun. No pressure, no strings. Just go at your own pace, don’t worry about all the other bullshit.” You took a couple more deep breaths, remembering how much you used to love running before your injury. You took a few more moments to catch your breath and calm down. You gave a slight smile and nodded in agreement, slowing leaning back into the run to not overwhelm yourself. After about an hour of what seemed like torture with the sun beaming on your bodies, both of you decide to head back toward the house.

There was noticeable silence as you both tried to catch your breath and cool down. “What happened back there?” Ja’Marr spoke quietly, breaking the silence between you two. You sighed before replying, “I think I just got in my head too much. My mom brought up the whole track thing last night, and all of a sudden I remembered what she said as I was running and it just triggered me I guess.” Ja’Marr shot you a sympathetic look, “I never understood why Rob and Elaine put so much pressure on you. You don’t have to do everything damn near perfect.” he said. “Ha! Tell them that. Sometimes I almost wish I had a sibling to take some of the pressure off me.” You replied to him, stopping in your tracks as you heard your phone chime with your watch simultaneously. You pulled out your phone and instantly smiled when you saw the name on the screen, one of your longtime friends Jessica had sent you a text. “How is Ohio treating you so far? Call me tonight and tell me all about it!” You thought about sending a long winded text to unpack everything that has gone down so far, including the unnecessary comments from your mother. However, you were exhausted from the run and desperately needed food and to rest, so you decided to keep it short and sweet. “Everything is great so far, different than being home for sure. Text me when you’re home from work later and we can facetime!” You replied to Jessica, including a simple heart emoji to follow up. You and Jessica had become close during your sophomore year in high school, and while you both went to different colleges, you managed to maintain your close relationship. Jessica was one of those friends you could go days without talking to, and then pick up where you left off like nothing happened. She was one of the only close friends that you felt you really had left after breaking up with your ex. Unfortunately a lot of the friends you acquired during college were friends that Sean (your ex) introduced you to. It was simply too awkward to keep things going with these friends after the break up, and quite frankly the basic nature of the friendships just simply weren’t worth the trouble. It was fun while it lasted, but you craved more genuine friendships with people whom you felt like you could be yourself around. Being around Sean’s friends always felt like added pressure, and you never really realized it until everything was over.

You and Ja’Marr finally made it back to the house, and you could not wait to shower and eat something, considering the only thing you consumed this morning was the disgusting smoothie he made. You were headed back to your room when he stopped you and asked, “Let’s go to brunch or something, like old times? I’m starving and I know you are too, since you were hating on my smoothie earlier.” Your eyes lit up, “You read my mind, I am literally dying for food. Let me take a quick shower and I’ll be ready in 20!” He nodded and walked the opposite way. You walked back to your room swiftly, desperate to get out of your sweaty clothes and get ready to head out. After quickly showering and picking out a cute pair of high waisted jeans with a baby blue crop top, you headed into the closet to pick out a pair of shoes. You hadn’t gotten the rest of your things shipped from your parents just yet, so you only had a few options. You brought just enough shoes that you could match up with just about anything, so you settled for your white high top converse. Your fitted jeans accentuated the curves on your body, your skin just slightly peeking through your crop top. You did a once over to check your outfit in the mirror, before undoing the braided ponytail in your hair and fluffing out your soft curls. You gave your roots a quick tease to add volume, put on some shiny pink lip gloss and grabbed your purse and phone to head out to the living area to see if Ja’Marr was ready. Upon walking near the living room, you see him leaning against the wall as if he had been waiting there for quite some time. “You know, after so many years I forgot that 20 minutes to you is actually an hour!” He teased. “Oh come on, it was no where near an hour! More like 45 minutes!” You laughed, admitting that you took way longer than you expected. “Same difference, let’s go before you take even more time and we end up having to skip to dinner.”

You both headed out and took a quick car ride downtown. It dawned on you that you hadn’t even bothered to ask him where you were going, as you were starving and could honestly eat anything at that point. You ended up at a local spot that was very small and quaint. Obviously Ja’Marr was well known so you knew he wouldn’t want to go anywhere too public, so this place was perfect as it was a weekday morning and wasn’t crowded at all. You both ordered brunch and sat talking for over an hour, both enjoying each others’ conversation and catching up. “You know, it’s so weird because I feel like everything is coming full circle.” You said, putting the cup of coffee you were nearly finished with down on the table in front of you. “You always had this dream of being an athlete, and I had no doubt you could do it. It’s just so crazy that it’s actually happened! To me you’re still just the same ol’ Ja’Marr that I grew up with. Goofy, annoying as hell, and funny!” You said giggling. “Chill with the insults okay, you’ve only been here a couple days and already with the name calling.” He laughed along with you. “But yeah, it’s definitely a night and day difference from how my life used to be. I’m just glad I can take care of the people I care about now.” You replied with a smile, glancing up when you noticed the waitress coming by the table to give you guys the bill. You barely had time to reach into your bag before he interrupted— “Absolutely not! I got it Kenz.” He said removing his wallet from his pocket, placing his card on top of the bill. “I wouldn’t let you pay for stuff when I was broke, so why would I let you pay now?” He said, giving you a puzzled look. “I mean I don’t know, I’m only an adult and I can pay for myself?” You said back sarcastically. “But thank you for brunch, if I haven’t said it already I really appreciate everything you’ve already done for me in such a short amount of time.” He smile and nodded, “It’s really nothing, you know I’d do anything for you!”. Once the bill was paid, you both headed back to the car, chatting it up on the way there. “So, I know it’s still early in the week, but I was thinking maybe we can have a bbq with some of my teammates at the house this weekend? A lot of them are coupled up, it’ll give you a chance to meet some of their girls.” You didn’t think twice about it, “That was seriously be so fun. I’m dying to meet the people you’ve been spending all your time with! Plus, I feel like it’s been ages since I’ve done anything in a social setting that didn’t involve my parents.” You joked. “Good, I’ll set it up for this weekend then. I’ll get the guys on board and let you know once I have all the details.” You were low key excited, you were a planner deep down and you loved nothing more than getting together with all of your friends. Although this was going to be with Ja’Marr’s friends, you were eager to meet some other girls that you could possibly spend time with. After all, you didn’t know how long you would be here in Ohio, and you didn’t want to spend all your time being cooped up under Ja’Marr.

It seemed like the rest of the afternoon flew by. You took a long nap once you got home from brunch and woke up to an empty house. Ja’Marr sent you a text letting you know he was going to hang out with his teammate Tee, but he would be back later that night around dinner time. You spent the time alone on your phone, scrolling through social media mindlessly. You looked up at the time and realized it was nearing 5pm, and you were starting to get hungry again. Suddenly, you had a great idea to make dinner for you and Ja’Marr since he was currently out with Tee. You hopped up and strolled to the kitchen, going to see what you could possibly throw together in a short amount of time. After looking through Ja’Marr’s extensive pantry, along with his fridge, you found a few items but nothing that went together. “This kid literally has nothing but protein supplements and junk food. How does he survive off this?” You stared looking into the fridge, trying to come up with options. “Oh! I got it!” You said to yourself, grabbing your phone to place a quick delivery order for groceries. Ja’Marr had a few things you could work with, like rice and a few vegetables. You remembered he loved Asian food, so you decided to whip together a chicken stir fry. You were however missing the main ingredient, chicken, so you had to place a delivery order for that, along with a couple items you needed to make a stir fry sauce. Once the order arrived, you began whipping the meal together, as cooking was one of your favorite things to do. It only took about 30 minutes to cook, and it was perfect timing because you heard the back door opening as soon as you grabbed bowls from the cabinets. “You order takeout?” Ja’Marr said stepping into the kitchen, removing his hat and oversized hoodie. “Um, no. You’re never going to believe this but I….COOKED! You know that thing where you heat up the stove, and chop up ingredients to make a meal? Yeah that!!!” You couldn’t help but laugh at your own sarcasm. You knew he wasn’t a chef by any means, but you thought with him being a big time NFL player that he would at least keep the fridge well stocked. “How do you even survive?!” You asked him as you were placing the stir fry into the bowls. “I order out, it works.” He shrugged. He always had a fast metabolism which you envied. You side eyed him and sat at one of the barstools at the counter, both of you finishing your dinner while chatting about the upcoming bbq. “I’m excited to actually hang out with people my age ya know? I feel like I’ve been stuck with my parents since the whole break up ordeal.” You said getting up from the barstool, taking both your empty plate and Ja’Marr’s to the kitchen sink. “Yeah you never know maybe it’ll give you the chance to make some new long time friends. Especially since you don’t really have a timeline on how long you wanna stay and all.” You nodded in agreement, quickly tidying up the kitchen and excusing yourself to go call your friend Jessica as you both promised to talk this evening. You thanked Ja’Marr again for brunch earlier that day, and for spending time at dinner with you. It was such a small gesture, but it meant so much to be able to have a conversation with someone that was about something other than your ex. You felt like it was all your parents ever brought up, and although you and Jessica were close, she still didn’t know the full picture of what happened between you and Sean.

You entered your room and took a seat on the bench, putting your legs up to your chest to cozy up before dialing Jess on FaceTime. She quickly answered after just one ring, “MACKENZIE! I feel like it’s been way too long. Tell me everything, how is Ohio so far?! Have you met any cute boys yet?! Are you totally living the lavish lifestyle now?! Don’t forget about us little people!” She fired off, barely giving you 2 seconds to interject her. “Whoa whoa whoa, let’s not get ahead of ourselves now. I’ve only been here a few days, no I have not met any cute boys. And before you say anything, no Ja’Marr does NOT count” Jess had met Ja’Marr a few times a long time ago, and she kept her innocent crush on him no secret at all. “Okay, no one was even thinking that but I mean since you brought it up…” She giggled in response, covering her hand with her mouth trying to hold back her laugh. “Okay but no seriously,” Jess continued “How are you? Have you talked to your parents at all?” she asked with a slightly concerned look. “I talked with them yesterday, well mainly my mom. And you know how she is, always bringing up the past and insisting on focusing on my wrongdoings. But besides that, things are going really well. I’ve just been trying to get comfortable here, it’s so weird because everything is so different with Ja’Marr from the last time I saw him. I mean I’ve seen him since he’s been in the NFL, but things have definitely blown up since then. His house is incredible! I can’t believe it took me this long to come visit.” You said as you let your legs hang off of the bench, coming out of the UGG slippers you were wearing. “Well in your defense, you both had a whole lot going on. I always tell you everything happens for a reason and I think it’s the perfect time for you to be somewhere new, especially at this point in your life.” She gave a comforting smile, appearing to walk into her kitchen and pour a glass of wine. “It look me a long time to get to the point of accepting that I needed a change of scenery, but I’m glad I did. Ja’Marr is even throwing a bbq this weekend so I can meet some of his teammates’ girlfriends.” You stood up from the bench, pacing back and forth as you and Jess continued your chat. “Teammates’ girlfriends huh? What about the teammates?” Jess said with a smirk. “Oh do not start with me Jess, absolutely not!” You laughed, ever since your break up, Jess was trying to throw you at the nearest attractive man she could find for you. “I mean you never know Kenz, I’m just sayin’….you know they say the quickest way to get over one guy is to get undernea—“ You quickly interrupted her before she could finish her sentence “Okayyyy! And on that note I think it’s time for me to get ready for bed. I love you girl! You should seriously come visit me once I get settled.” “Oh I definitely will, I love you too Kenz! Please, call me tomorrow if you’re not too busy?” She said giving you a pouty look. “Of course Jess, goodnight!” You both blew a kiss to each other and hung up the FaceTime call. It was so refreshing to laugh with Jess, she has always lightened the mood even when you felt at your worst. After the call you quickly made yourself comfy in your bed, passing out for the night without a care in your mind.

Hope y’all enjoyed this chapter! Who’s ready for Mackenzie to meet Ja’Marr’s teammates?! 😉 The next chapter hopefully won’t be as long so we can get to the good stuff already!

Taglist: @toterry

[antimony-medusa]

man, just going through and queueing my thousandth emduo fan art and considering my emduo writing I'm doing this evening and with a VOD of an emduo stream open in a tab and with emduo art as my desktop background and I was just struck by a thought:

Undoubtedly this would be kinda weird to see people getting this into your friendships.

Like not even getting into whumping characters or aging them down or shipping or doing deep lore and meta of off-hand comments, just like, just the fact that I have been posting emduo art approximately 12 times a day for the past three years. Not even getting into the fact that one of those creators is dead. Like. That's gonna be a little weird to come across in the abstract, if you are a person with a friendship, seeing this friendship be like someone's blog theme. Multiple blog themes. The hashtag updates hourly.

Like I'm sure fandom is flattering, but also, there is undoubtedly a point where someone is like 'oh wait, so your entire hobby is about these characters that have my name? Like you spend hours a day on this? You have art up?" And then they go Oh Dear.

Which is why I think it's just so much greater for everyone if we keep our little derangement in fandom-specific corners of the internet and do not throw it into the creator's face. At all. Even the harmless stuff! Do not TTS about your fanfic! Sharing fan art and cosplay in the designated fan art channel— awesome. Inviting creators into your fandom group chat— boy. Can we not. As much as I am like man I could probably reach so many people, I probably should not promo fandom events in the philza discord! The actual guy is there, saying "here people can request gifts made for them about you" is gonna be weird.

There's just— there's a thing on twitter right now where this artist was making music and videos in a created world with characters, all very dreamlike and artistic, based in their childhood. And because it's the internet, someone wrote/drew NSFW of these characters. And because the internet is the way it is now, people were finding, searching out NSFW content to send it to the creator, presumably so they could take it down?

And I know these people had good intentions, however much I think that they're wrong, but I would argue that sending someone porn of characters based on you/on your kidfic is pretty close to harassment? Like do not show them that stuff. Come on. But the 'tattle to the creator' mentality was too strong.

And the creator, unsurprisingly, did not deal well with this! And then in what I think is a mistake, they have put together a team of people and a google form so that you can report if you find inappropriate or offensive content with their characters and the team will presumably try to copyright strike it. Which. Uh. Again. Is a whole horrible boundaries discourse, is going to lead to witch hunts, and I'm not sure about the legal success of copyright striking fan art and fanfic ANYWAYS.

But like this could have been avoided if instead of going "the creators need to know about this Bad Stuff" people just blocked and moved on. And I think so much more of modern fandom would take a step towards health if we could put more of a creator/fandom separation in place.

Like when I think back to the heyday of DSMP fandom and how these creators— many of them underage— were getting people sending them porn of themselves/their characters, to tattle. Oh look isn't this dark fic too dark. Look how horrible this gore is. This is borderline shipping. People were sending Phil's mods stuff tagged as QPR, because they couldn't get to Phil but he clearly so desperately needed to know this, so that he could condemn it as too close to shipping? Because that is respectful and a great idea?

And like this ranges from stuff where I'm like bro, he doesn't need to know that (small /neg, about stuff that isn't a big dealt), to bro, he doesn't need to know that (LARGE /neg, stop sending the creators porn), because like, okay, yes, you have correctly identified that this would be weird to have happen to you/to a character based on you. What you are missing here is that unless you want to usher in an era of insane copyright overreach that would make disney's lawyers ascend to a higher plane and also kill transformative fandom, there is effectively very little way to stop most of the bad stuff. Those characters are out there, people get to do what they want with them, no matter how much it's in poor taste. All you're doing when you show creators the bad stuff is making them look at stuff that is going to be unpleasant and they can't stop. So, y'know, harassment?

And even the good stuff— I know how to behave myself and act cool in public spaces the creators are in, but if they were to see the full depths of how much of my brain space is taken up by the blocks, I'm sure they'd kinda be left going hahaha you what????? Tomathy Innit was struck speechless by a single person doing a video essay analyzing L'manberg. I see that energy on the dash from dozens of mutuals every damn DAY.

Just like, man. Fandom is just a lot to shove at creators, and if they want to step in willingly that's fine, but I really think we should be so so so cautious about throwing them in bodily when they didn't ask for it. Do not rec family dynamic fics to tommy in his youtube comments. Do not tell tubbo to scroll his hashtag on tumblr. Stop telling Phil about your fanfiction in TTS. I"M SURE THE POSTING YOU ARE ALL THINKING OF IS FINE IN TERMS OF TECHNICAL WEIRD STUFF, but like— even the good stuff! Even the good stuff is a lot! "I was having a bad day but I watched some videos with the friendship in it and now I'm okay" is just a lot to drop on someone! Can we allow creators/writers/musicians/actors/authors to opt into this stuff, and not shove it at them?

And for the love of all things good stop sending people porn of themselves.

[prismuffin]

Hey!! Can I request a top male reader x Price. Reader is new to the 141 team, Laswell recruited him for the team. Little does the team know Price and reader are married, they do know that Price is married tho. The team finds out when they catch a shirtless, pants-undone Male Reader literally on top of Price, who is shirtless, only in boxers, and covered in hickeys (They were being a little too loud).

A/n: KSKSJFHSKFJHSJ YESSSS ugh he has no right to be that hot idk- also the gif>>>>

“PRICE?!”

John Price x top!male!reader

( summary: after hearing their captain's groans of pain throughout base they rush to his room only to see him underneath you, definitely not in pain )

warnings?: light swearing, light smut but it's not directly talked about

C/n means code name!

!-!more under the cut!-!

The team waited patiently as Laswell left to go grab who was supposed to be their newest recruit. She seemed to be almost laughing to herself as she described your skills and explained why you'll be a great asset to the team. For once, Price was actually unsure about who this new recruit could be, but they seemed to be well trained and very skilled from what he can gather. The door opened again, and their attention snapped to it as Laswell walked in with their newest recruit. "Boys, meet Y/n L/n, otherwise known as C/n." Price almost audibly gasped at the sight of you. His husband. Is that why Laswell was laughing? Cause she knew the whole time? "C/n? How'd you get that name?" Soap's Scottish accent cut through the room and you chuckled, "You don't wanna know." A smirk found it's way to your face as your eyes scanned over the team before landing on Price. You stared at him as Laswell introduced everyone, telling you their names and ranks, though you didn't seem to care about anyone but Price, which the team noticed. They decided not to think much of it, and some really didn't care at all (I'm looking at you Ghost).

After the meeting, Price was assigned to show you around, and by that I mean he volunteered. "I just can't believe you didn't tell me you were switching!" He whisper yelled to you as you walked together. There was a hint of amusement in his voice though he did seem to be at least a little mad at you. "What can I say? I just wanted to spend more time with my husband." You stopped walking, grabbing his waist slowly while smirking. He was quick to swat your hands away and you pouted, "What? You didn't miss me at all?" You faked a hurt expression but smiled when John rolled his eyes playfully. "Of course I miss you, I just wish I'd have gotten a bit of a bloody warnin eh?" You crossed your arms and shrugged, "Laswell thought it'd be funny." He scoffed muttering an "unbelievable," as he began walking again. You chuckled and smirked as you caught up to him, slapping his ass. He gasped and hit your arm which hurt more than you'd like to admit. You said sorry even though you clearly weren't and attempted to grab his hand only to get slapped away. You attempted again and he denied once more, that didn't stop you from trying the entire rest of the time you guys walked around base, he settled with holding your pinkie whenever no one else was in sight.

It's been about a week since you join 141 and you've mostly made friends with everyone. You'd heard a lot about Gaz from your husband so it was easy to click with him when you brought up stuff you knew he'd relate to. Soap was just easy to get along with in general and that Ghost guy is someone you're still working on. Either way currently the team had just gotten back from a small mission, they’d left both you and Price back at base for recon. After the mission was done they’d said their goodbyes over comms and took their short flight back to base. Walking in from the hanger, they all chatted - though it was mostly Gaz and Soap, Ghost didn’t mind listening in. “Aw man you should’ve seen that guys face when he realized he was out of bullets!” Gaz laughed with Soap, even Ghost let out a silent nose laugh at the two. “Yo y’alright lad?” Soap asked as he noticed that gaz had stopped laughing. “Did you hear that?” He asked and Soap slowly shook his head. “Lt?” Soap questioned and Ghost also shook his head. “Maybe you’re hearing things mate-“ Soap stopped talking abruptly as what sounded like a groan rang through the halls. “See there it is again!” “Ohhh yeah I heard that one! Ey LT, wanna check it out?” Soap shot Ghost a grin and he huffed.

“Ahh, shit-“ “Sounds like Price-“ Ghost said only to be cut off by Gaz. “You think he’s hurt?” “Doubt he’s hurt, sounds more like-“ Gaz hurried off causing Soap to laugh as Ghost sighed, following the two as they speed walk through the halls. Their captains groans only got louder the closer they got, curses being added in sometimes here and there. As they neared the shut door to Price’s room Gaz began walking a bit faster, obviously worried for his father friend. A “MmmphFuck- Y/n~” stopped Soap in his tracks, “wait that doesn’t sound like-“ Gaz busted the door open, his jaw dropping as he took in the sight before him. Price was stripped down to nothing but his boxers, his neck and chest and the inner bits of his thighs were covered in purple bruises. You hovered on top of him, pants unbuttoned, staring at the three new guests that entered the room. “Ahh shit I thought I locked the door..” they heard you mumble, all three of their eyes wide in shock.

“PRICE?!”

Gaz yelling seemingly knocked everyone (but you) out of their shocked trances. “Christ!” John shot up, bumping into your form, causing you to stumble back, gripping at the bed as to not fall. “Oh. Ohohoho-“ Soap started as he looked between the both of you. Soon after, he busted out laughing and unlike before he was the only one doing so. “Respectfully Sir, what the actual hell did I just walk in on?” Ghost spoke over Soaps loud laughter and Price could do nothing but stutter out useless excuses. “Aren’t you married?!” Gaz yelled and Soap immediately stopped laughing at that. “Ohhhhh Captain, cheating on your spouse? Not cool,” Soap looked shocked and you smirked, looking between both parties. “I’m not cheating on my-“ “Not cheating?! You’re practically naked and being fondled by this- this- new guy!” Gaz almost looked betrayed as he held his arm out towards your figure to emphasize his point. You failed to stifle a laugh and Price shot you an unimpressed look. “Gaz, calm down im not cheating on my Husband, he is my husband.” You nodded and both Soap and Gaz looked between each other. “Huh??” “Yup, it’s true I married this old guy.” You crossed your arms and jumped, feeling Price pinch you teasingly for your choice of words. “Wait so- your husband joined the team and you two didn’t say anything?!” Soap asked and you laughed, “I thought it’d be funny.” Price sighed, “It wasn’t relevant information at the time.” You shot him a false betrayed look as Gaz and Soap went silent. A deep chuckle from behind the two caught everyone attention. Simon “Ghost” Riley stood there, shoulders bouncing in what appeared to be silent laughter. “Fucking ‘ell, you lot really are something else.” He muttered and Soap’s face broke out into a grin as he started to laugh again. “I can’t believe I didn’t know.” Gaz spoke and you scoffed with a roll of your eyes. “Yeah yeah, this is all very funny but if you’ll excuse me I’d like to go back to what I was doing.” You motioned your head towards Price with a wide smirk as his face started turning red. Gaz looked borderline mortified and was quick to leave, Ghost and Soap following shortly after, though not without Soap throwing you a wink from over his shoulder.

Price groaned after the door shut, flopping backwards onto the bed with his face placed in his hands. You grabbed one, pulling it off of his face before planting a soft kiss to his cheek with a chuckle. "Sorry love, I could've sworn I locked the door." He sighed, "It's fine, s'not entirely your fault I was kind of being loud..." He mumbled and you laughed, placing a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Do you want to continue?" You asked, not so subtly grinding your hips down to resume the previous friction. He let out a breathy moan at the feeling before staring into your eyes and nodding slowly. Your face broke out into a grin as you leaned up a bit more, pulling his other hand away from his face and planting a proper kiss to his lips. That night, Price had tried to keep it down though with practically everyone already knowing what you both were up to there was really no point.

----!----

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[billkaulitz-grrrl]

You Make My World Stop Turning -Bill Kaulitz x Reader

Hello everyone! This is my first Tokio Hotel fic and I really hope you like it! I’m new to the fandom so sorry if there are any inaccuracies ahead of time.

Synopsis: You’re the daughter of Tokio Hotel’s manager and recently you’ve become rather close to a certain singer…

MATURE!!!

His hands, god his hands could send me into a coma just by looking at them. I sat, tapping my pen on the clipboard that was handed to me by my father (their manager) as the four band members began warming up for their latest show in a few hours.

        I closed my eyes and tried not to fixate on Bill's hands. He held the microphone with such little care, it looked like the device could tumble out of his hand any second but somehow he manages to balance it well enough to keep it off the floor. God he's so annoyingly flawless that it makes my blood boil on occasion.

Bill and I have always just been good friends. I wouldn't say he's my best friend by any means but we always acknowledge each other and chat for awhile when I accompany my dad to their functions. Last night was different though, last night felt different. Or maybe it just felt different to me, with his millions of fan girls I doubt he'd look for a second at the girl he's known since we were 12.

I didn't even intend on hanging out with Bill alone last night but he caught me outside of the hotel smoking a cigarette in the middle of the night. We ended up sitting and talking for a long time. It was nicer than I would've expected. A small part of me dreaded this tour that took up the rest of my beautifully laid out summer. I had all these plans with friends before my mother decided to tell me I was going to Germany to stay with my father during the summer so she could move to Australia for this temp job at the company she's dedicated her entire life to. My german isn't even that good.

I sighed and stood up to go to the bathroom when their first set of the day was over. I crossed backstage to the nicer bathrooms that normal people don't have access to. That is the nice part of being the daughter of a popular band's manager, the bathrooms I go into actually have toilet paper and sometimes even paper towels.

Right before I got to the bathroom I felt a hand grab my shoulder. It was Bill of all people. "Going to smoke up the bathroom?" He asked, a sly grin on his face. I fake a laugh and shake my head. "Dad would kick my ass if he knew I was putting your lungs in danger." I sighed. He looked around and leaned in a bit, "Wanna hangout again tonight?" He asked. I was surprised and he must've notice this because he followed up with, "If you don't want to that's fine, I just can't sleep after shows and your company last night was very soothing."

Why was my heart rate accelerating? Since when did little Bill get so attractive? Fuck this isn't real, I still have to pee. "Aren't you and the guys going to be taking fans up to your room tonight? You don't have the time to spend with me." I tried to keep my cool but something inside me was cracking.

Bill laughed and shook his head. "I could probably get you something else to smoke too if you're into it." He said, putting his fingers to his lips in the motion of smoking a joint. I raised my eyebrows and nodded vigorously. "Same spot?" I asked, thinking of the secluded little area behind the bushes that I located yesterday. He nodded and smiled that deadly smile at me again. I turned to finally use the bathroom with a new giddy feeling in my stomach.

—————

I huddled down into my little corner to

wait for Bill. We had never really settled on a time so I've been waiting for a few minutes. I truly hope he keeps his word and comes out here with me or else I would make quite the fool of myself waiting for him. I reached into my pocket and felt around for my cigs and my lighter. I lit it up and exhaled the smoke with a deep sigh. I heard a few footsteps to my left and I exited my book in order to take a peak at who or what was there. To my relief it was Bill, makeup off and hair wet from a shower.

"Hey there." I grinned, he sat besides me and returned my smile. "Hey, did you like the show?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. "Loved it as much as I've loved the rest of them." I said, offering him a drag from my cigarette. Without taking it from my hand he lightly held my wrist so I could hold it for him while he smoked off of it. A blush came to my cheeks at his dainty touch. I was forever grateful that it was dark enough to hide the red on my cheeks.

"That's good to know." He said, now fumbling in his pockets. He whipped out a joint that looked like it was rolled professionally. "Tom gave me one for tonight but normally he's pretty stingy about his weed." Bill said, asking for my lighter by holding out a hand. I placed it into his finely manicured hand and waited for him to light the joint between his fingers.

His hands caught my eye for the second time today. I heard my heartbeat in my ears watching him inhale the smoke. When offering me the joint, I leaned in the same way he did when hitting my cigarette and I hit it from his hand. Exhaling, I coughed a bit and curled up a little more to be comfortable.

"Did you get a good enough view tonight?" Is he making small talk??

"I did actually, sometime maybe I'll make it down right in front of the stage to watch you up close." I stated thinking about the hordes of fan girls that they had accumulated. "You want to watch me up close?" He smirked at me. I turned away to cover my face. "You're awfully bold if that's what you assume." I muttered, snatching the joint and hitting it myself this time.

"I mean I saw you watching me during practice, so I'd only assume that's how you watch me perform." He leaned a bit closer, our shoulders now touching. "What?" Was the only reply I could muster.

I smoked again, finally feeling the weed in my head. "I said-" He began before I cut him off with, "I heard what you said."

He exhaled with a laugh and took the joint from me. "I watch you sometimes too." He looked at me when he said that and it felt like the world had stopped turning.

"Why?" I asked, feeling like a complete idiot. "Because I think you're pretty." He said bluntly.

Silence fell between the two of us. I felt foggy enough to move in closer to him. He looked me in the eyes before suddenly he closed the space between us by connecting his lips to mine. I jumped at the opportunity and dropped my cigarette before placing my hands on the side of his face.

The moment became heated quickly as his hand made its way to my waist. I clamored onto him like it was the last thing I'd ever do. I sat in his lap and the kiss deepened. His hands moved up and down my sides as I began swirling my hips on top of his.

        He leaned his head back and groaned slightly at the contact. I leaned in once more to kiss him and I snaked my hands through his long dark hair. I felt completely primal in this moment, the only people in the world right now were us. I didn't even know how I felt about him until this moment, but apparently a secret part of me has been craving this since I had first met him.

        "Y/N..." He muttered, putting his hand on the back of my head and tugging my hair slightly back. "We should go upstairs, do you have your own room?" He asked. "Yeah, my dad is next door though." I said, capturing him in a deep kiss again. After a few more moments he pulled back again and slowly shifted me off of him so he could stand up. He offered me his hand and I took it, leading him towards the elevator to my bedroom.

        We stood awkwardly next to each other while waiting for the elevator to arrive. Neither of us wanted to spoil the moment by talking but we knew that at any moment someone could snap a photo of us holding hands that would send Bill's fan girls into an angry spiral.

        Once we heard the ding of the elevator we hurried inside, praying that we weren't seen.

        The second the elevator door closed he was on me in a flash. His hands began to roam across my body as his lips met my neck. I gasped at his abruptness and instinctively backed up against the wall. He pinned me against it quickly and continued his assault on my neck.

        I felt the elevator halt and instantly pushed him off of me and began to straighten my hair. He obviously felt rather proud of himself by the smug smile on his face as we walked out. I led him down the hall to my room and checked both ways for any paparazzi before opening the room and welcoming him inside.

        Instantly I shoved his jacket from his shoulders and onto the ground. "So hasty?" He asked, holding his arms out. "Please stop talking." I mumbled, looking away and feeling flustered towards what I should do next.

        "Are you nervous?" He asked, genuine hints of concern laced his voice. "Maybe I am, I don't want to stop though.." I replied, moving towards him again. He flashed me a smile and pressed our bodies together again. I gripped his hair and a deep groan came from his throat. Our hips came into contact with each other again and I felt his hard on through his jeans.

        I exhaled and took a step back, slowly taking off my sweatshirt, then my t-shirt. His pupils dilated at the sight of me standing there waiting for him, it was like a switch flipped in his brain as he collided with me once more, pushing me down onto my bed. I laid on my back and looked up at him as he began to undo his belt. I knocked his hands out of the way and took his belt off myself.

        "Y/N, can I show you a good time?" He asked, like we hadn't already been making out and groping each other for the past 10 minutes. "Please do, I need you Bill." I mumbled. That was all he needed to quickly yank down my sweatpants and clamber on his knees into the floor.

        "W-What are you doing?" I asked, sitting myself up on my elbows. "Can I? Make you feel good?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Yes Bill, of course.." "Then just trust me." He said, yanking my legs to the end of the bed and putting his face between my thighs.

        I gasped as his tongue made contact with my clit through my underwear. My right hand flying to grab his hair and my left hand gripped the bedsheets besides me. "Bill, please." I whined desperately. His lean fingers looped under my underwear and he pulled them down my legs. Next thing I knew he dove into me like it was the last thing he'd ever do.

        It took everything in me not to scream his name at the top of my lungs. His tongue lapped at my clit while his fingers made their way inside of me over and over again. Whenever my legs clamped around his head, he used both arms to push them apart so he could continue to finger fuck me to the best of his ability.

        I moaned his name which only caused him to speed up. His dark eyes met mine and I felt a knot begin to form in my stomach. "Please don't stop Bill, please I need this!" I whined loudly. He stopped what he was doing to ask, "Please can you repeat that?" I felt incredibly pissed off that he had stopped so of course I obliged. "Bill, please fuck me, I need it so badly." I sat up and grabbed his hair, pushing him down between my legs once more.

         He didn't seem to mind since his pace only increased. Never once has a man treated me this good.

His fingers suddenly stalled inside of me and he looked up at me again. “Can I fuck you?” He asked, lust lacing his eyes. “Please.” I smiled back at him. I scooted back on the bed as he got undressed. I looked away, because I was unsure as to whether I should be looking at him right now. “Baby?” Does he mean me? “Y-Yes?” I asked. I felt his hand on my jaw as he turned me to look at him. “Look at me. Don’t be afraid.” He said.

I looked at him and fully absorbed the sight in front of me. Bill Kaulitz standing, wearing nothing but dark grey boxers. I felt myself blushing. He chuckled a bit before crawling on top of me and taking off my bra. “You look so beautiful Y/N.” He said, dipping down to kiss my neck.

I thanked him before allowing my hands to wander down his torso to the hem of his boxers. His lips halted on my neck as I began to push them down.

All of a sudden, there was an abrupt knock on my door.

“Fuck!” I whispered, shoving Bill off of me and onto the floor next to my bed. “Honey? It’s dad, let me in.” I heard my father’s voice from the other side of the door. “J-Just a second! I’m changing!” I shouted back.

“Bill, get under the bed.” I whispered. His eyes were about as wide as I could only assume mine were. I threw my sweatpants and t-shirt back on to open to door.

Next thing I knew my father was in my hotel room asking me if I’ve been keeping up with my summer homework on tour while I sat on top of the bed that a nearly naked Bill laid under.